Download RAMONA

About Last Night... [Prod. by Kill Bill]

avian love with a dope beat by https://soundcloud.com/mavrickdlp
feedback is more than welcome! 

bubba - 2 birds [prod. De La Mav]

★ based on the 2005 german techno banger "𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐍𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐭" by 𝐊𝐍𝐀𝐑𝐙 ★ more shred here : soundcloud.com/le-slapon/sets/gazed-diffused ★

𝐃𝐀𝐒𝐇 : 𝘾𝙝𝙞𝙡𝙙 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙉𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 (𝙺𝙽𝙰𝚁𝚉 ᶜᵒᵛᵉʳ)

youtube: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xqNQ-_Xoq2o
can't give enough credit to https://soundcloud.com/iamsamsa for coming through with crazy concepts on this gem. mad love to https://soundcloud.com/sagekyote for the killer production
lyrics:
scalpel to the heart trying to stop the bleeding 
symphonic Mozart echoes off the ceiling 
study symbols in each scar trying to catch some meaning
I’ve come to the conclusion yo I must be dreaming
yo I must be dreaming yo I must be dreaming
I’ve come to the conclusion yo we must be dreaming

wake up screaming
same dream that I’ve had for the past six years
it starts on a metal x building, feet are on the ledge, 
head starts tilting, teeter on the edge
and I jump off and it feels like a month long as I’m falling
then it cuts off as I plunge through an awning,
yawning, wake up and
I don’t really know what to make of it I
really wish these night terrors stopped
swear to god, these night mares are awful
scenes out a gothic novel, worst part is that I’m the author
x maybe I should call a doctor, maybe I should get a fucking shrink to see me,
whatever, turn on the TV, channel flip through a bunch of repeat
episodes of the twilight zone, flip to a sports channel with the highlights on,
through the primetime news and a lifetime film and a wildlife doc, then finally stop
on an infomercial
bout a controversial 
experimental, non-reversible
medical procedure
dream deletion, remove potential to dream while sleeping
and enjoy your rosy slumber
interested? call the toll-free number
one eight hundred 5867-633, fine print under, I ignore it 
just grab my phone, and dial the digits till I hear the tone, 
fingers fidget till I hear a lone voice across the speaker groan
thank you for calling
we’re no longer offering our service, I’m awfully sorry
we’re lawfully obligated to close off of our operation
thanks for your cooperation 
and they hang up
rang up their office a second time
and a third and a fourth and fifth and on the sixth I checked the line
to hear a voice give me directions to their office, there’s a sign
out front that says siesta inc in rustic print and when I find it
I should go up flights of stairs until I see a shining light and
walk through halls of doors until I get to room one hundred one
and as they talk I grab the keys and let my Civic’s engine run
and drive until I see the sign, and park my car and walk the floor
and run up flights of spiral stairs until I think I see the door
and open wide and step outside, behind me now the door is shut
I’m standing on a concrete ledge and must be 80 stories up
and as I’m slipping off the edge, I can feel my iPhone rung
and I pick up and hear the voice behind the metal echo “jump” “jump” “jump”
i must be dreaming, like i must be dreaming

flashback to the night before 
lucid swimming ocean floor 
following this motion towards 
the shore but I can barely make it
seems like everything is vacant 
except a solo lighthouse in the forest 
door is forced shut but I climb the ladder
at the top a sadder picture or illusion
eyes moving to a city left in ruins
past the woods, I draw conclusions 
wait, heard a sound 
return to ground, in the trees it seems louder
so I scatter after fractured laughter 
patterns in the distance hear it echo 
losing minutes as I let go of existence 
as I know it, tip toe into this wasteland 
lots of empty spray cans tagging no man’s land
on all the building torn down to pieces 
I wonder if man kinds now become an endangered species
and if so, what’s the purpose of my being?
I’ve come to the conclusion that I must be dreaming
man I’ve come to the conclusion that I must be dreaming
still can’t wake up so I see what all my dreams are really made of
as I follow through the wake of whatever massacre occurred
thoughts growing more disturbed passing every single curb
til I swerve into a burning sign and think
where else have I heard of Siesta Inc?

Silent Crowns

Spotify

Siesta ft. samsa (prod. Sage Kyote)

prod @rainlord
mixed by @ibr

lyrics: http://pastebin.com/BktFpHc4

look, I won’t pretend I understand it babe, the afterlife and all
but as you died you promised me that you would try to write or call
and I’ve been waiting ever since, every sunday I hold seances with like-minded adults
and roll your corpse into the living room and try and find your pulse and then repine at the results, I’ve even got my windowsills lined up with ultraviolet bulbs, shrunken shrines of human skulls and other signs of the occult but now I’m at a fucking loss, cause honey, nothing seems to work…
 
like I’ve been astrally projecting my body beyond my dreams
through the fabric of space and time so you could me spot me at the seams
I ventured through the upside-down hoping you caught me in between
but maybe if you’ve got the tech, then you could haunt me on my screens
 
like you should infiltrate my news feed
I swear no one would notice
you could float beside some bogus buzzfeed quiz about the POTUS
be a pixelated phantom ghost
on clickbait propaganda posts
and dictate what you’re thinking through a catchy headline
like “one weird reason why it’s great to be ethereal”
or “twenty signs you’re dead now and your soul is immaterial”
 
or if it’s late at night then you could swoop in from the shadow realm
and talk to me through pop-up ads that show up over adult films
on anything you’re into, we could start with milf, or facial,
you could beam your interspatial spirit into interracial
if you’re feeling sorta formal, we could pizza date on Skype
and I could call the coroner over n’ we could share the corner slice and when it’s time to go to bed, then we could leave our cameras on
and if the netherworld has one-day shipping free on Amazon
 
then you could slumber as you ship yourself, I swear this shit delivers quick
or send me the address and I could meet you by the river styx
I’d twitter beef with Namtar by the Tigris and Euphrates
I could snap you while I’m snagging sacred threads of life from Hades
I would loot Duat and photocopy-pirate the papyus,
change the records and then have a Facebook flamewar with Osiris  
and either way, I can’t wait to talk or reunite,
I’ve been so lonely since you died, I’ve tried to walk towards the light
and if the Gods of Death oppose our harmless want to reconvene
then maybe we could sneak you by ‘em if you haunt me through a screen

the rest of the lyrics: pastebin.com/BktFpHc4

haunt me on twitter

haunt me

Off The Jump Presents a new single by @iamsamsa

Featuring:
@teeawgo

Produced by: 
@bbydjinn

Mixed by:
@ibr

Cover Art by:
@iamsamsa

Stay tuned on our Social Media

twitter.com/offthejumpmg

www.instagram.com/offthejump

and by visiting www.offthejvmp.com/

Lyrics: 

L I double-r bayside trainline
grew up on butter chicken, a double digit waistline
stubble on my face like 
when I’m on a plane ride
people don’t wanna sit on the same side
what
 like look at me I'm harmless
I’m wearing a tank top
what could I be armed with
you can have the aisle seat
you can have the armrests  
you can have my barf bag 
this is not a bomb test
this is not a bomb test
soccer moms nervous when I'm sitting on a flight
 so brown that I’m I’d ticketed at lights
hot sauce, white sauce, yes, chicken over rice
so brown copped the ali zafar album
yes, I listened to it twice
hookah high school parties, always visited the heights
mom never let me kick it over night
on a curfew, mom wanted me to go to berkeley, 
 dad wanted me to get into islamic clergy,
chachoo said he’d work me in his diner making burfi,
“bilkul jasi ghar ke”, I was playing kirby
nightmare
dreamland,
I was watching He-man
east side queens, never talk to the police man, 
please man 

barry said that we can
tried to get it all done within a weekend
see the same dumb shh up on cspan
where the change at
strip the world down like a teen cam

and it's gone in a flash
everything solved with a bomb and its blast
long as the promise of cash is involved
no impossible task, like nah, we had no other options with that

middle east with some peace, yeah, one day
bodycams on police, yeah, one day
white punk shooting schools, they don't update rules,
cus americans in love with they gunplay

pow
someday, sunday
go to church, amen, god is the one way
anybody not on board, aw buddy we deport
we wanna be great again, do what trump say

that man is god awful, compares to none
melting pot is what makes us american
still watch during convos, parents judged
from their accents, hmm, think where we're from

latinos all hoodlums that carry guns right
criminals, rapists, selling drugs right
stealing our jobs, it ain't fair to us right
privileged cops who prepared to cuff right

hands up, but the cop scared, he bust like
pow and it's done, was nowhere to run right
one last breath from his pair of lungs
from that night he was trying his errands done
nice

all hail the monarch, the pharaoh king 
about to diddle in the East like the Arab Spring
it’s embarrassing, let’s ban refugees huh?
I just want a slice of that New York Pizza
I’ve even got a shirt saying “I love Isa”
I drew a little picture of you on my Visa
O Great Conquista-dor
more the type to visit moms on the eastern shore
than a villain on a felony police report
ain’t you heard it’s impolite, watchu eavesdrop for
phone tap, PAT act, what a turn of events 
MAGA turning time back, made em’ yearn for the past tense
gave lady liberty, an urn full of ashes
a term full of facists, a cabinet of flammable gases,
burning our flag with alternative facts
now we turning our backs to the masses
fake news, false reporters 
build a wall on the border with caulk and mortar
not law and order, turn a circus to a theme park
even if you got a ticket and a green card,
america, the darling, the america, the sweetheart, — the police state
from the bronx to the verrazano freeway
middle east, russia, terrorism three-way
mom doesn’t know if she should feel safe, never used to lock doors 
now we check the key fob, now she goes to J Crew, never wears the hijab,
now we make our own chai, never hit the sweet shop,
abbu think we got bugs hidden in the sheetrock,
ammi think I ought to get myself a real job,
too afraid to protest, all we do is read blogs,
never do we bleed out, all we do is treat clots
all it is is foreplay, never hit the g-spot

samsa - burfi ft. THIAGO (prod. bbydjinn)

prod. @jhfly
art by rach, @passive155 on twitter

i miss the olden days
back when we would drive my civic off into the sunset, windshield glowing with a golden haze
i miss the simpler times
when you could pick me up at 4 am and hit the road and we would improvise 
with nothing in the GPS, back when we were free to roam
and brought a pillow with us so that anywhere could be our home
not the most romantic, but we planned out all our future dates
and snuck in every morning to cop breakfast at a super eight 
I’d waltz in past the front desk, then open the cafe door
you’d slink in and we’d have a banquet that we’d never pay for
two goody-two-shoes breaking all the rules, little rebels, we were perps
tryna hide our smirks while slipping fruity pebbles in your purse
and as we dipped out of the exit you would grin as if you’d robbed a bank
hop into our getaway and gun it on an empty tank
pull into an vacant station where our car’s the only one


there’s something meditative about the smell of fresh petroleum  



but things have changed since,

 cars are losing their appeal
it’s been decades since I’ve even gripped a steering wheel
elon built a hyperloop so no one drives drive a coupe no more,
people take their transit-pods through traffic on their private routes
china’s got a maglev train but I would never get aboard
in russia I heard they could program people so they teleport
point A to B, always know exactly where you’re headed for
remember when a road trip meant a sojourn, not a metaphor
remember rolling windows down with levers on the metal doors
and reaching back behind your seat to find that bag of kettle corn
one foot on the floorboard, then put on the gas
yearning for that rearview mirror, i’ve got one foot in the past

rearview

PRODUCED BY @NOSENTENCES 
ART BY TWITTER.COM/WAVELESSNY

it's banger season, come ride the wave

LYRICS:
this that laid back, cool shit, speeding past a cruise ship 
left you in the past tense, bloody, need a new lip 
cool, wrist like alaska, 'cause it's icy tho 
we could make you live a half-life like an isotope 
i've been drinking alcohol, but i ain't talking isopropyl 
feel like i'm about to fall, them bags under my eyes are purple 
woah, floor getting slicker with every shot 
woah, why you got your britches in a knot? 

it's the sicker spitter, hit a lick, and duck off in the dodge 
'cept i'm more than likely hoarding someone's blunt in a garage 
in the midwest, yeah, it's all a front or a facade 
such a bummer to be awful at the only thing you got 
but you managing it pretty well, vile with the flow 
think it's winterfell, wrist look like a pile of the snow 
i don't kiss and tell, if she wanna fly out for a show 
then i come and then i go, 'cause i'm always on the road 

don't mistake it or hate it, made my plate out of waste 
and went to the attic from basement, moving up in my placement 
from depressed and complacement to "i'ma flex 'til i change it" 
when no one knew what my name was, i still wrote page after page 
i suppose that if i make it, then that's why 
but i don't really wanna be that guy 
yeah, i don't wanna look like the bad guy 
but most my competition on standby 

so i'ma come thru and then kill and dig into beats 
i brag about nothing but make that shit heat 
they getting jealous when they listen to me 
but speaking back'll get 'em ripped into pieces 
pennsylvia to the borderline 
from east manhattan to the torrey pines 
i'm the central the topic like florida time 
and i'm passing if she only sorta fine 

and that's that... yeah... fax, no printer shit 
finally got some bands but i don't act no different 
thinking 'bout the old days... bagged no mistresses 
was listening to coldplay... yeah, don't mention it, whatever

download <3

WAVES

is this really life?

produced/written by me
mastered by biskwiq 
art by skirt

lyrics:
when you're standing at your window in your bathrobe
like you do
like you do

talking to your mother on your cell phone
turning blue
you can't move

she says, "ayla, are you eating like you're supposed to?
tell the truth
i know you"

you wonder if she knows about the old youth
that you knew
what's the use?

i wonder if there's more out there
nothing really feels quite right these days
ayla, if you hear my voice
promise me you'll stay awake
i wonder if there's more out there
nothing really feels quite right these days
ayla, if you hear my voice
promise me you'll stay away

when you're staring at the ceiling in your bedroom
every night
flickering lights

from the broken bulbs in street lamps that surround you
paint you white
seconds at a time

you face the wall you used to put your back to
scatter lines
pass the time

you feel as though you're trapped inside a vacuum
can't be right
is this really life?

i wonder if there's more out there
nothing really feels quite right these days
ayla, if you hear my voice
promise me you'll stay awake
i wonder if there's more out there
nothing really feels quite right these days
ayla, if you hear my voice
promise me you'll stay away

spotify/apple music <3

ayla

hey y'all it's my birthday today uwu
art by https://twitter.com/5thpwwr

lyrics:
i know u don't see me
u sleep with your eyes open
oh no it just can't be
it can't

i've wasted all my time
on shit that doesn't matter
and now i'm feeling blind
i'm falling into patterns
(x2)

tell me how u rly feel
u know i never grip the steering wheel
i dont rly understand how it works
i want to get better
it's cold in the wintertime
too hot in the summer
u and i, dumb and dumber
when ur not such a bummer

i know u don't see me
u sleep with your eyes open
oh no it just can't be
it can't

i've wasted all my time
on shit that doesn't matter
and now i'm feeling blind
i'm falling into patterns
(x2)

na na na na na

i've wasted all my time
on shit that doesn't matter
and now i'm feeling blind
i'm falling into patterns
(x2)

PATTERNS

...sleeping on the phone

vocals by lando & i
produced by lando & i
mastered by biskwiq
cover photo shot by ellie

@landosmusic
@biskwiq
https://instagram.com/efffelll/

lyrics:
sunday morning, vacant doorway
wipe the sunlight from your eyes
and trace your favorite constellation
on their skin

overwhelmed by the emotion
watching cogs turn in your mind
you sort of wonder where this wonder
may have been

'cause you're always in between
stuck behind the tv screen
in somebody else's dream
feeling like a ghost

always in between
stuck behind the tv screen
in somebody else's dream
trying to let you know

late night when the lights go out
long stares at an old friend's house
feels just like a cheesy movie scene

scan lines on a crt look like
hd when you're next to me, alright
i can see it so clearly

in between
stuck behind the tv screen
in somebody else's dream
trying to let you know

in between
stuck behind the tv screen
in somebody else's dream
sleeping on the phone

PATTERNS

atlas

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