...It Mutates!
Part Four: We Could Stay Here Forever

prod. @geo_1022
mix. @atwood
art. @headhaunter

Lyrics:
We could stay here forever, collapsing into one another
with our fingers intertwined beneath the covers we’re tucked under
just a couple drunken lovers, a kiss in a hidden bunker
encrypted gallery’s sculptures of things that we did this summer

sick of this heart being subjected to senseless beatings
where the same mono-coloured sun’s setting on every evening
I just want to be with you, you’re like a breath of fresh air
it’s electric (frenetic), in a bed that’s thread-bare

it’s where you’re sneaking me a wink across a crowded room
where it’s non-verbal and a simple nod’s a power move
where we’re nocturnal so we meet up at 3:00, fucking
it’s a small circle where the sweet nothings mean something

I’m just a fiend loving every single second shared with you
a nice break from self reflections that I seldom stare into
see in here it’s not stealing, we can kiss, it’s allowed
where we don’t take other people’s feelings into account

We could stay here forever - right under their noses 
We could stay here forever - where no one will notice
We could stay here forever - where shadows light the path
we could stay here together, forever, right behind their backs
x2

The perfect match, the songbirds, the dynamic duo
the kind of catch you long for, the side-having loophole
have cake and eat it too, you know, partners in crime
at least we’re faithful to each other in the dark and the light

bright tape on me reads “caution” often flirting with the deep end
we’ll take off these cheap costumes, drop this curtain we can sleep with
the wrongs we’re being charged with are just purely misdemeanours
with a sparkling clean conscience on this dirty little secret

where we’re twisted up in the bliss that they’re ignorant of
there’s an “in” put in front of the descriptive: “significant other”
it’s more than a tryst, it’s trust, it’s not an affair, it’s unfair
that the smidge of attention that was there becomes rare

we’re one pair mixed in all new chemistry
who needs postured empathy when I’ve got you next to me?
I’m all yours, since nothing’s felt as intense
so let’s stay where we can have fun at someone else’s expense

We Could Stay Here Forever (prod. Garrett.)

Wait, hold up.  

Let me get this J rolled up

I’ll tell you motherfuckers 
what you gotta pay me for a verse
if you let me get the fucking payroll done 
 
Y’all could offer your first born child 
and I’d still bounce out like its’ girls gone wild, 
Style so killer that my words on bail, 
all my verbs in jail and my verse on trial 

all about the bass, no  treble 
first place on the track, gold medal
Shere never get into a situation 
where he gotta choose, never lose cause the Khan don’t settle 

y’all don’t move like your bikes won't pedal 
think you gon’ blow like your mics’ gunmetal
but that shit seem like planting a damn seed,
leavin’ it and hopin’ that it might grow petals 

think you mad cold but you tykes come gentle 
till’ you get popped like a tight blood vessel
y’all motherfuckers really going out of style
like some cowboy boots with the rhinestone pebbles

Line game sharp like a limestone pyramid
Y’all act hard but your rhymes don’t merit it,
The facts are that your act starts played out
and you lack bars like a backyard playground
but I rap like a track star makes rounds
when I go faster than nascar greyhounds 
Y’all burnouts are like racetrack flame-outs
looking at me spit a like spacecraft came down

Y’all rusty with dumbed down bars out
like parts found in a rundown car pound
My eight-track when it’s played back bar none	  
gets the crowd revved like a Maybach start sound

I really feel like you rappers need guidance
Y’all rap ‘bout the same three items,
freestyling bout’ weed, greed, violence, 
we don't need these from you, we need silence

Y’all say that my tracks need a damn hook
Fuck you, why don’t y’all hacks read a damn book
Y’all about as well-read as the self-help
shelf in a jail library cell in the backwoods


Yo, fuck the goons and dudes who confusing their 
youtube views as a proof of some movement 
All they do’s interviews and reviews
but there’s too few crews just improving their music
 
Y’all prolly like Khan’s being cinematic, 
I’m prolly like nah, see, I’m really mad
I was taught to keep my head down even when I’m at it
Then I see these cats getting green like a lily pad 

All these dogs got a dot com blog and a vlog
and a blah and a blah and a twitter page
It doesn’t matter how much shit you got up on the internet,
though bitch, if you all never been on stage


See, this shit’s gettin’ pretty old’ 
Some shitty ass kid makes a video 
with a shitty rap on a track that’s forgettable
Couple days pass, see him dance on the Ellen Show
to a damn crowd with some middle aged mom’s in it,
nearly puts me fit of rage watching it,
like they made it cause they rappin’ to celebrities

Someone tell me though, what happened to integrity?

Straight Bars Volume 1

Lil Dijon gets revenge >:)

Lil Dijon Gets A Haircut (FT Lil Sleepyhead)

Shattered Chords

The Crash FT: Squinkywinky, Flinkylicious/LilFlinky, Lil Sleepyhead, Gabe

The thought of you makes me twitch

thank you for ALL the support 
mixed by @tevinwmusic
prod by @yungameba

music video: http://bit.ly/2yaRgA1


I like to think I’m well-equipped as any other average guy 
but I just can’t discover love and I don’t even set my standards high
on top of that, I’m camera shy, maybe I should opt-out of the dating pool
and be an undercover tinder samurai

cause I would rather type online than whisper in a dingy bar
and swiping left and right could be my new bushido ninja star
and I’m well-versed in virtual lovemaking ninjutsu 
on every profile pic I post, I’m posing with my shitzu
or flexing with my shirt off cause I heard that gets you hits too

Especially OkCupid, I’m like Eros or the cherubs be,
I pierce hearts of women with my cursor and my arrow keys
and disregard my Roman roots and choose a font that’s serif-free,

trust me,

 I’m a tinder bio brainiac
the way I kindle fire with matches, I’m a pyromaniac
on christian mingle, I’m a casanova,
if ya’ll don’t think so, y’all can ask Jehovah
check your inbox, he might send an answer over

I wish I had the muscles of a granite sculpture
I would log on ashleymadison and bang adulterers
I’m so lonely, I’ve considered farmers-only
just for someone’s arms to hold me
also, I’m really big on agriculture

but if I had that body of a grecian god
I would trawl on pof.com and use it as a fishing rod
and hope I don’t get catfish,
the fact is if I did, I’d probably play along cause god knows I could use the practice,

and if I’m aching for my roots, I’d visit shaadi.com
message islamic wahhabi hijabi hotties “salaam”
and sunni, shia, those are both denominations I respect
cause I just care for our connection, 

I don’t care about the sects

sometimes I uninstall my apps in reckless insurrectious rage
and then regret it while I check the craiglist missed connections page
and then I think that I should get out more and disregard my mobile cell
and get to know the local teller at my barnes and noble well
and check out what she’s reading while she’s charging up my total sale
and ask her if she likes the novel,
and once she answers, ask her if wants to grab some coffee or some ice cream waffles,
and she’d probably say that’s awesome, 

 I’d ask her when she’s off of work,

 she might answer “midnight”

 I’d tell her that sounds awful, 

what a bummer, and from somewhere
I might muster up the nerve to get her number,

 and I would ask her what her digits are
and if I play it right then I can disregard my ninja stars, 
say sayonara to katanas and my other weapons too 
and try committing by committing online dating seppuku

tinder samurai (video in description)

prod @yungameba
mixed by @ibr
art by @ibr and me 
shouts to my crew @offthejump
thanks to @atlas for being a cool dude 
lyrics: http://genius.com/Samsa-feat-atlas-anthropocene-lyrics


I always knew that we’d be by each other’s side forever
now our time has come 
and I’d be satisfied if we died together
 
yeah, our climate’s fucked  
we might as well enjoy the weather
our time is up and I’d be satisfied 
if we died together

hit me up

anthropocene ft. atlas 🎉

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

prod. @corybear
mixed by @ibr

shout out stream squad

I think in I’m in love
but I’ve been feeling otherwise
these flutters in my stomach aren’t butterflies but cutting knives 
and not the butter kind, and if you listen close when she begins to speak, you’ll hear a couple hundred sighs and the collective shut of eyes, letters linger on her lips like lullabies, I think I’ve  drowned a couple times inside her opal-colored eyes, she could do something as simple as sit down with the grace of Olympic dives, a perfect 10 photo shutter finish on her cocoa butter thighs, X catch her wearing loose pajamas on a sunday and she’d overshadow any supermodel on a runway, when she wakes up in the morning up she smells like vanilla essence and the bittersweet recollections of your adolescence, summer camp and piano lessons and presents you got on birthdays, orange creamsicles and double plays on first base, and walk past her in the halls and if your shoulders feel the slightest brush then you might melt to liquid gold, the lightest kind of midas touch, I’ve seen the way she drinks espresso during classes and reshapes a paper cu p into an emerald-covered chalice, sugar packets pouring crystals, napkin origami cranes, gunning gorgeous glances to me through her giorgio armani frames, she’s nearly perfect in 
almost 
every
way 









. 



.


.
but she’s got shit taste in movies, ask her for her favorite titles and she always likes to say she’s down to go see anything by shyamalan or michael bay, and also, she’s a psycho in the kitchen, 
it’s a travesty, what kind of fucking monster cooks their pasta in the microwave? 
and she does this thing where she corrects your grammar if it’s wrong and clicks her tongue and winks and shoots a playful finger gun as if she’s won some sorta contest, empress victor-of-a-conquest, mrs. armchair shrink, let me fix you with a comment, princess kick you when you’re down, worshipper to a godhead, it seldom happens that she listens to my voice and doesn’t chime in quick with unsolicited advice, an unapologetic tyrant of passive aggressive rivalry, ask her a question and catch and handful of sass and irony, and trust me, she is just the worst at board games, debates about the rules like legislators at a court case, tampers with the scales of justice, wielding pencils as her gavel, once I even caught her cheating while she kept the score in scrabble, she’s a fucking wreck at checkers, plays monopoly sloppily, always bringing up disputes in games of trivial pursuit, sucks at battleship and risk, she fights better hand-to-hand, 
and don’t even get me started ‘bout how trash she is at candy land

but I’m no adonis either,
fashion sense abysmal, I’ve got two nirvana t-shirts 
that I wear to formal outings and I’ve never owned a cardigan,
catch me buyin’ cargo pants at target from the bargain bin
drink milk straight out the carton, use my hands to scoop out margarine
breakfast table etiquette makes up our morning arguments
and I’m not a glass half full kinda guy,
shipwrecked, flags half-mast hull kinda guy
I never was an optimist, not too good at compromise,
the problem is my ego’s far too fragile to apologize
but she always calls me out and takes me down a couple pegs too
it’s always nice to have somebody close who double-checks you
and honestly, we wouldn’t be ourselves if we were different 
yeah, she’s clumsy and I’m stupid, those are things that we can live with
being perfect’s unrealistic, either way I like our flaws
the way I crack my knuckles often, the obnoxious way she yawns
the way I stutter when I flirt cause I’m not very good with courtship
the way she’s gotta pee the first ten minutes of a road trip
how when she cuts her pancakes it’s in slices, not in squares
the way my daily coffee intake is a crisis, I'm aware
the way I talk in crowded theatre and the way she parks in parallel
the way she goes through pints of ben and jerrys salted caramel
the way...

The thought of you makes me twitch

TheGoldenNugget

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