Stomach Book Flip

BEYONCE - I'M THAT GIRL (R O B W A S T E REMIX)

SUPPORT THIS DUDES WORK.

https://www.youtube.com/@yunothewolf1509

Yuno THe WoLF - CRASH LANDED (PROD BY DUCHAMP TZARA)

NOT MAKING A TRACKLIST BUT THE ASTUTE AMONG YOU CAN TAKE A STAB AT IT :3

OLD BEATS SUFFERING FROM ERGOT FUELED INSANITY AND DEMENTIA

PLUXOMATICA VOL 20: MONORACOM

GOD WILL BE MY COWORKER NOW

HALLOW

1 rarely pozt here theze dayz (eye prefer bandcamp, d8e to the fact that copyr1ght la3z are not really enforced there n therez no l1m1t az to 3hat and ho3 m8ch eye can 8pload b8t th1z 1z 1mportant.

https://dasmofromworldlanguage.bandcamp.com/album/pluxomatica-vol-31-the-doctors-pronounced-you-normal

!!!VOL 31!!!

PROD ME 

Felonious bolus attitude, dubious truth in your speeches
Organator how i break your monitor and rip your group to pieces
I’m connected to my family, sewed up in a collective like it’s Army Of One
I’m a whimsical poison-maker, hard to stun
My whole clan has moxie like we HABITS children
I don’t do romance with probably skinwalker skybombers
In my own hands, i rock these garments of the damned
That bleed through the fabric in zionists sheets, understand
scrapbooks filled with mumblecore heartbreak and faux-pollock stains
That show your true colors and your toxic ways, you mock afraid
That i’ll leave chunky crimson coming out your hand like casino 
Wino power, broken typewriters legal violence, wreak cold 
Blooded auras of a hauntological past life
That’s my way of showing you the door to limbo’s jaws
Fists of fury, punch through your optimistic glance
And force you to do the wop cause my starchild will make you dance

You not a tortured soul, you just trying to be quirky
In the polluted noise of dark academia and that’s concerning
You’re not worthy of this radiation lung
Spitting acupuncture crumbs wrapped in cookies sent to enemies
Fuck your fuck this generation
Man, your hating ain’t gon bring back the days of lofi basement jams and string replacement
I’ll pay homage to those you hating
Cause your negative energy fuels the hound demons that be around speakers
Possessing mcs to kill shit, like that scene in the naked gun
I’m too rare to die, they won’t break me son
I scream phoenix out of deformed dimensions
Collecting all thought processes, and shattering its henchmen

RUINING THE SPORT OF BASEBALL

PROD ME

My Hivemind writes lines of postmodern smackdown
Villainous microtonal melodies surrounding the wack crowd
Of VHS fetishism and sterile eyestrain graphics
I remain unseen like madlib and construct savage
Shrines to polyrhythmic proto-music
Using reclaimed barn wood, orthoclada and superglue sticks
Don’t be deluded: you could break the heavens into cubits
I’m rotating around the broken stratosphere to provoke that past fear
Of eternal darkness in crushed glass, to battle me you must have
A knowledge of critical theory, fantasy, and sacred text, but fuck that
Chance of happening. I’m Anthony Fremont Funny Games Catastrophe 
Attached to the blasphemy in every subconscious mind
I operate hardcore ufos
Dean blunt type shit, fuck an encore, i’m stressed bro
I’m pajama sam, cheese and crackers veteran
Mcs copying me are slowly growing lepers skin

CLEANING HINTS FOR PEST CONTROL

PROD ME

When i was unconscious In my imaginary world i remained happy
Counting mutant sheep, unaware of the monster that’s me
My past memories slowly dissolved into firework dust
Floating in the heavens above, the severed tongues that i was struck
By: all the elements melted together, tye-dye 60s
rolling back my eyes to take inventory of the remains of my mind
It’s the same every time, a sharp pain in my spine
When my mind became aware of this prison life
It then reverted to regressed bliss
Shrinkwrap knighthood, 
subconscious tones of the medieval occupied my senses
It’s unrealistic but my excitement was endless
I hoped that it would never cease, my fantasies were making me restless
Then it was all black, i was succumbing to deafness
Then a voice spoke in a deep tone, in some cryptic fashion
The glass broke around me and i was squirming on the floor
As my freedom was granted by some magic force

And now my grayscale skies are painted neon (x3)
And they always will be, and they always will be

I’m still processing why i was trapped 
Superstitious ruin or a streak of last laughs?
Forever tainted, although safe in what you call earth
Demons near my walls, creaking through the floors in mirth
I’m still processing why i was trapped 
Superstitious ruin or a streak of last laughs?
Forever tainted, although safe in what you call earth
Demons near my walls, creaking through the floors in mirth

GRAYSCALE SKIES

PROD ME

Overgrown forests cover deserted army bases
Currency apparatus boarded up, civilians cars vacant
Gaussian skies cry out for a crack in their foggy ceiling
The coral-infested slush weaklings are left bleeding
The atmosphere is tainted pipes exposed on abandoned houses
Tiles rotting through the floorboards, the gods haven’t been more bored
Like it or not, this is the home that you know and trust
Biting inhuman prey with your fangs to feed those you love
Golden mist folded within your armadillo eyes
Wash your face with ketamine, and let it be known that your life
Is parallel play between the stereowaves and garden tools
Gravestones marked with xs sum up this fallen ruse
Of telepathy, melodrama, social capital and
Demonic forces paying homage to your soul.

STORK FANCLUB

YES.
I'M MORE ACTIVE ON (AND PREFER) BANDCAMP BUT THIS IS WHERE I POST SINGLES, THROWAWAYS, AND OTHER DOPE SHIT.
https://duchtzaragoddamn.bandcamp.com/
disc: pluxdasrob
twt: @ronnywaste
insta: @ronnywastee
dm me on any of those for inquiries
CLINICALLY BRAINDEAD BUT I'M STILL ON CRUNCH TIME. PART OF THE EPIC CLUB ARISTOCRACY

DUCHAMP TZARA

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