Mots en panne

Chroniques d’un Monde Mort est un album de rap old school sombre et introspectif, une plongée brute dans une société en décomposition. À travers des récits réalistes, parfois violents, parfois tragiques, l’album donne la parole à ceux qu’on n’écoute jamais : victimes silencieuses, consciences brisées, enfances sacrifiées, amours dévastés.

Chaque morceau est une chronique, un témoignage sans filtre sur la folie humaine, l’injustice sociale, la dualité intérieure entre l’homme et l’animal, la colère contenue et la perte de repères. Les instrumentales lo-fi, lourdes et minimalistes, laissent toute la place à une écriture crue et émotionnelle, portée par des voix habitées, parfois calmes, parfois au bord de l’explosion.

Chroniques d’un Monde Mort n’est pas un album de divertissement : c’est un miroir tendu à une époque malade, un cri lucide dans le silence, une œuvre sombre mais nécessaire, où la conscience refuse de se taire.

Parti Trop Tôt

A long lost track from ELB (Bill Shakes x King Grubb) that we recently found hidden deep within the murky cobbled back streets of Blackburn.

ELB (Bill Shakes x King Grubb) - Damn Shame (produced by 19.thou$and)

0004 - Gipton Wood Road - Verse 1

Larry Tides

Too many xans I won't wake up yet 
Probably arise to some wake up head
Nigga what hobby should I take up next 
Back in this bitch like makeup sex 
Climate change so the north stay wet 
Smoking ozone in a real steep tech 
She be still putting on her make up dread 
No stalling they ain't paid up yet 
I know it's only change from the flower joint 
But I won't let it slide like a PowerPoint 
Take man for sap
I don't need adjusting position relaxed 
Travel to Sheff just to bring home the packs 
What they expect when it's guaranteed p
Ain't nothing less when they give it for free 
Baby face nigga I do what I want 
I only start flexing if Molly's in me 
Full metal bro's
Mustang fry a nigga with the fingers 
With these full metal flows 
I see envy in the eyes of the opps 
Treat em like cod barrat call red tiger 
High rise, nothing much, just violence 
Scope him out, see his head, stay silent, nigga breath in, stay still, domed mileage 100 points hawkeye  there with headshots 
Friday nights, smackdown, leg locks
in the new 110s
Northside boy in my new 110s
Head to the rave got a few 110s
Out with trigga Trev smoke a few good 10s
2020 in the chucks in a new benz 
In my system
Made agreements 
More collisions 


Verse 2 

Swish

Gip wood stories grit and northy
Know I gotta spit one gore
Stay olivertwisting flows the way I pick pockets
They know they gotta give some more
Clear through the mist and fog, run up and split this log
Lumberjacks I get chopping away
Spirits got burst watch this fall and decay
Got me skidding on dirt like its colin mcraey
Straight rally up and go
Planet earth 2 catch the animal up-close
Ls finesse get to packing up a show
I be tony yeboah get it cracking off the post, pros do the most
In centre court like its tennis wars so best know am showing no love
Scores never left on naught the whole sets in norf
and opponents don't know us 
So use mine body and learn
Say your the one your just acting more fierce like laurence fishburne
Checkpoints stops clock and disperse
But when you drift gears get bodied in turns
Use your soul for what it is worth
Its gold some are pawning it first
But I'm never selling out no source to the nerds
How can that be the way this paved I was born by the curb
From the gip to the wood to the hills to the wood
Sabre series documented
Care package drop the force ascending
Had to stabilize the boys got sent in
To do the job, in the blink of an eye we're moving off
Iron fist grip on my microphone
Electrics in my fist kazuya shots 


SS

By The Northaze

Bedtimerz (feat. Dyslexis & Truthos Mufasa)

Black Josh