MAGIC

PENDING ANGER RAMBLE

From "III"

PRE-ORDER III http://bit.ly/IIIiTunes 
https://badbadnotgood.com
http://badbadnotgood.bandcamp.com

( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

CS60

Lost My Chimichanga (prod. Bloom)

produced by beatsbynar

Sorry for the novel length post, feel free to ignore. But it’s going somewhere, I think. 

So I’ve been reading a book called “Messy” by Tim Harford. I’m not too far into it but I have been digging it. There’s an anecdote about (and I may screw up some details here) how Bowie used to have a box of cards with him in the stu with random stuff written on them. When hitting a creative roadblock or needing an idea (I’m sure I’m screwing this story up, don't come for me), they’d pull a card out of the box & have to deal with it. An example being “Drummer Plays Guitar” or something. A kind of “paint yourself into a corner and create yourself a way out of it” sorta deal. This is all stuff that appeals to me as someone who is 137 years old and has been making music forever. I’m sure many of you can relate to the difference in vibe between the first 3-5 years of making music as compared to what it’s like 10+ years in the game.

It’s hard to describe, and frankly kind of depressing. As a younger person, I recall seeing it happen to the older heads and remember wishing I’d never lose the feeling I had then. Well, I did, a long time ago. I think everyone might. I think the lucky ones find a different fuel to keep them going, and ride on that as a replacement for the initial excitement they used to have.

Maybe this isn’t as universal as I’m making it sound. But I think it’s a pretty widespread thing. It’s why we don’t hear from MC XYZ anymore. Part “life gets in the way”, & part “I’m just not feeling it anymore”. And that feeling sucks.

So I’ve been thinking a lot about Bowie’s box of cards. Now we’re about to take a sharp left into sillytown. I recently received a text from DJ Addikt’s ladyfriend, and it contained within it the following bar: “I’m the snack captain, I make the snacks happen”. Which I found hilarious. And I couldn’t help but come up with the next bar. Then the next bar. Then the next bar.

Then I realized I was pacing around the room jotting down a grip of bars and rearranging them and really into the shit. I was having fun. I was having a blast writing about snacks. I don’t even like snacks.

Then I thought about Bowie’s box of cards, and decided I wasn’t going to sleep until I’d written and recorded a song called Snack Captain. I was going to send it to Addikt and Co, and leave it at that. I found a beat on YouTube I liked (Smokescreen, Prod by @beatsbynar), finished writing, and recorded it. It was THE most fun I’ve had making music in forever. Not that I don’t find making music a satisfying and crucial part of my life, but I had FUN.

It was a blast. I think partly because I’d intended this silly song to only be heard by two close friends, and partly because I just followed what I was feeling at the time and had to keep the topic on snacks. Which is ridiculous.

I ended up really liking this silly little experiment and found myself feeling like I used to when it was me and my buddies and cooledit96. I also think I accidentally made a banger. 

Anyways, here’s Snack Captain.

Snack Captain

Winter

More phone raps for your ears. 
Second verse is something I wrote to this a year ago
First and third verses are “new.” 

Lyrics:
My rap tendings get to penning up something for major label 
On the ladle it’s soup stricken with habits barely tailored 
Favored by the whole creation undated and rather sour 
Born assailant and saint the legend strickens by the hour 
Formed a tower of talent backend by this sole ambition
Said, “if not to prove my balance then behold this last incision”
One decision a blunt ton of all these past regressions 
Beckon for a stronger effort to fw higher powers 
Cuz momma ain’t raise a coward this power put to the pen 
My penance cursed repetition of all the times that I sinned 
Blemish docket on my skin I pocket all the filthy grins 
A dingy locket bending sockets, light fracture off a memory 
I’m bending wills too good to be on paper, my nigga we always major 
Laid ya story to a canvas way beyond your  home encampment 
Found the story arc entrancing always kept your troubles candid 
In the cellar with the lamp lit dusting off my olden pen 

Live life with a dissonance, got no sense of what rhythm is 
Blemishes that blurry my ideas from genesis 
Tendentious conceptions that bloomed to tendencies-tend to lead to bad habits
 Everyday like the sabbath, sin of sloth till you get crabbin 
I’m clawing at inspiration and worries that’s seeming baseless 
Like empty bullet casings but I’m numb to the gun 
And dropped the hard act cause I ain’t posing for nothin-that shit looking posey to some 
Imposing shows of lack of belief, preach a word that’s different from preacher sermons then choose to preach or curb. Oh word?
That’s looking like indoctrination, teaching with a darker basis, ya cult looking kinda racist-encase it in your religion 
Then kiss the cook instead of kill him while the white man make a killing 
Media gon shoot the billing, I’m just tryna keep it trill and let the folks come lend they ears but after years you learn to give up 

Trouble stepping over all my other efforts, pleasure mincing word and rhyme 
I mean we all on borrowed time, why grind up flesh  
A beat at best is just a vessel, siphon out the beef and nestle wordage out the reach of wrestle 
Thank you English language, word is like a bandage 
Brandished wildest ideas to get a feel, I see a wall amongst ideals 
I deal with forward thinking troubles nudging me up out a bubble 
However subtle, it’s a line across space and time 
A bottom dime, a bet attest to words I stretch 
I kept them in a rift of mine on polar oppo-sites of time 
And bugging off a list of my emotions, kinda getting the commotion 
Leaning off a ushered motion, tryna pick up where to go 
And touching base with all my omens phoning in some rhymes 
I’ll say it for the thousandth time, my existence is not sublime 
There’s plenty chance that I could die without honing these gifts of mine 
I’ll say it for the thousandth time- fuck it, who needs another line

Rap Shit Vol.3-Blockhead, Kiss The Cook

Bounce That Booty Like A Basketball

Buy link: https://eu-iv.bandcamp.com/track/cloudedthoughttttss

cloudedthoughttttss

Uploaded December 13, 2017 by House Shoes for his Magic show on dublab. Read more about the song at http://www.longislandrap.com/2018/01/busta-rhymes-notorious-big-roc-marciano.html
Download at https://soundcloud.com/longislandhiphop/busta-rhymes-modern-day-gangstas-ft-biggie-roc-marciano-prod-by-dilla

Busta Rhymes - Modern Day Gangstas ft. Biggie, Roc Marciano (prod. by Dilla)

All beats by Aasir *bow*
All raps and skits by LU  *bow*

HMU ILL MAKE YOU A DUNCE CAP.

dummy /// all beats by Aasir

2PACK EP SERIES FOR THE WIN
EAST SAINT PAUL FOR THE WIN

business inquiries & beats: loveulysses651@gmail.com

dummy /// all beats by Aasir

Love, Ulysses.

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