cool beat man but your vocals need treatment work cuz its kind of hard to understand your words in what you saying.

ay,dontcha u touch me lil bro
keep my ruger like an ruler
boy its over, and yk it
pour a drink, i like that dirty
you aint know it, now you do
fuck ur board, i took her back
and blew it out, just like some tires
boy that pussy flat like one
heard ur girl controlling u, u should get ur fucking balls
and im ballin but you know it

dirty in my cup bitch, its lookin like diana
push her to the side bitch, like panties on an thick bitch
i miss all the late nights, but now im in my bag bitch
i will never text back, u lost me in the first night
mentionin ur ex, bitch, u must have dememta
smokin way too much, i might just never ever stop
bitch im chasin all the greens, i feel like popeye
heard its christmas times, red and green onto his roof
yea we shot into his booth, hit his throat, now he cant speak
s into the r, now we mix it with the T, why u tell me all the tea
bitch is u gonna spill, u cant hang around with me
doing things, that u cant know, mixing up thats what i do
sellings packs, i get my dough, pushin carts, but aint no store
u were smokin pestide, i was smokin alien
mad dog made me couple bucks, sellin them like they were pups
and u thought, this shi was fake, nah ill sell u a whole cake

Artemis (prod. kj2turntt)

Original Uniqueness Genre:

S.K.A.T.E Trance

Sound Kinetically Apprehended Through Experience that puts you in a Trance.

As You Listen Ephphatha

Impenitent Traits

Unprincipled Egocentric

FAN (prod.999lnly)

Galactic

That Be Real

Hoots

ALL PLATFORMS ‼️ (Apple Music, Spotify, Etc.)

mula, okay

Keep going - tris ritual #ICEKILLSRADIO

bands (FREESTYLE)

‘Tell me can you find meaning in living,
Still caught giving it thought, I’ve misgivings,
Spent 37 years now doing my digging,
And pretty damn sure there’s something I’m missing,
The pieces that make me up are not fitting,
Not quite shaped to place, they won’t click in,
Sick of sitting around this well, well wishing,
Listening to elders, reading what’s written,
Do I turn to religion, leave Great Britain?
Too introspective? Into hair splitting?
Too reflective? Into gut spilling?
Whatever it is, I’m glum and not grinning,
Forever feeling beleaguered, hair thinning,
Feel detached there’s a gap I’m not bridging.’

‘How come I’m poor while you’re making a killing?
Your future’s bright mine slowly dimming?
I think I might just combust, give you a kick in,
Go back to sniffing gear and beer swigging,
Perhaps this sober life needs binning,
Failure my nature, who am I kidding?’

‘When relaxing, feel guilt for chilling,
More time elapsing, spent unfulfilling,
My potential to which still clinging,
Potential for what? That’s why I’m tripping,
Still unsure, do mine or your bidding?
A divine being? Or am I just kidding,
Myself not facing facts not admitting,
Just a chimp? Just not in trees swinging,
Should I go back to battling, fight picking, 
Screw faced, taxing brats, knuckle clicking,
New life, now my phone’s never ringing,
No wife, now less luck with the women,
Now more timid, rigid when kissing,
Wind’s now coming in gusts while I’m pissing.’

‘How come I’m poor while you’re making a killing?
Your future’s bright mine slowly dimming?
I think I might just combust, give you a kick in,
Go back to sniffing gear and beer swigging,
Perhaps this sober life needs binning,
Failure my nature, who am I kidding?’

‘Even though sober my heads still spinning,
Body not lean yet in the gym sweat dripping,
Eating protein yet still not slimming,
Am I too chicken and gonna give in,
Still all payback for my past sinning,
Snake lies in wake in the long grass hissing,
Can’t hold down a job, keep quitting,
Can’t control my gob, keep flipping,
How can you join a team, seem to fit in,
With no self-esteem, off sick, keep ringing,
Have a good moan to anyone that’ll listen
Workshy yet irked by no recognition,
Perched high having grandiose visions,
Predestined to pen these dreary compositions.’

‘How come I’m poor while you’re making a killing?
Your future’s bright mine slowly dimming?
I think I might just combust, give you a kick in,
Go back to sniffing gear and beer swigging,
Perhaps this sober life needs binning,
Failure my nature, who am I kidding?’

That Be Real

Beenchillin

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