“A child who is not embraced by the village will burn it down to feel its warmth.” This tape will explores tropes of lonesomeness, vindictiveness and the bitter realization that you are sometimes better off without things others need. It takes a village to raise a child, but it takes a village to raise a monster, too.

All bridge are fodder for the fire; what is a lover but disappointment coupled with desire? Flares from burning overpasses always reminded him that he was not alone in the world; those flames burned just as bright as he did. Times have changed as they always do. Burning the bridges is no longer enough; he must now burn the village.


LYRICS: The devil wear Prada, I put my b*tch in VI Westwood
I gave her my all the b*tch don’t want to see me be good

I got a lotta
I got a lotta
I got a lotta, stress (uh)  

I got a lotta
I got a lotta
I got a lotta, checks (uh)  

I’m smokin’ on chem-dawg and I beat the block with my dogs, yeah
I’m f*ckin’ that b*tch and I’m high off the strong and we will not last long, yeah 
Only in love for a second, my patience as thin as her thong, yeah
As short as my songs, yeah, 4 grams take me home, yeah

I’m sippin’ on drank, and I’m kissin’ on pink, baby bring my bong, yeah
I’m dabbin’ on wax and I’m spazzin’ on tracks, lil b*tch leave me ‘lone, yeah
Fourth down in the pocket, I look to my left, tell Shake go long, yeah

Hit a nigga from Hong Kong (yeah)
New Glock, BING BONG (yeah)

Huh- huh (Huh – huh)
For Christmas, I bought me a blower, yeah
I damn near bled out in a soda, yeah 
I f*cked the b*tch twice I don’t know ‘er, yeah

The b*tch is a bopper, a hoe’r
I don’t give a fuck about no one (uh)
I ran it up in a cold one,
I’m trapping outside, he froze up, its below one (yeah)


The devil wear Prada, I put my bitch in VI Westwood
I gave her my all the b*tch don’t want to see me be good

I got a lotta
I got a lotta
I got a lotta, stress (uh)  

I got a lotta
I got a lotta
I got a lotta, checks (uh)

I’m huggin’ that fire and I point at his eye and the young n*gga will die, uh (Take him home)
He think that I’m p*ssy or sum, I’ll show you I’m not, Simba sin on my side

I got too much damn pride b*tch, 
Look in my eyes b*tch, sittin’ sideways with my side b*tch

RP 10 my sidekick, yeah
Got a n*gga feel like Robin, uh

I throw money at the problem, yeah 
(Fuck a b*tch take her shopping)

(Yeah, yeah)

I got a lotta
I got a lotta
I got a lotta, stress (uh)  

I got a lotta
I got a lotta
I got a lotta, checks (uh)  

She wanna give me
She wanna give me
She wanna give me, neck!

I need a new plug on the Tech (uh)
This whore getting me vexed (uh)
Sent the lil b*tch to the vet
I boss up, I flex (uh)
I paid off the refs (uh)
(I’m cheating on this - )


The devil wear Prada, I put my bitch in VI Westwood
I gave her my all the b*tch don’t want to see me be good

I got a lotta
I got a lotta
I got a lotta, stress (uh)  

I got a lotta
I got a lotta
I got a lotta, checks (uh)

V V Stressed -- prod DosReel

https://www.mediafire.com/file/2yqffvu87ytlifp/104_DO_IT_FOR_U.mp3/file

<3

DO IT FOR U

super secret bathtub coolin

Original song from IMA's StudioDogs 10 summer album
thanks to coffee and adrenaline for allowing me to stay up and record this thing

01 We

MINX ft. Genius Troy

Mary Jane... won't you keep it real? 
-Produced by Tombo @tombobythewaves
Featuring -@londonyellow

TreeHuggin ft. London Yellow

lil tracy - like a farmer (prod. gren8)

Dj T.O.N.E- Keyshia Cole- Love RMX

I was nocturnal
You worked a nine to five
Water and Fire
But I don't wanna burn that bridge again
Now that we're over
And our love is compromised
Little bit colder
Under the moon
We can see how the galaxy changes

Say what's on my mind
Telepathic Women
Keep me on the line
When this loop hits the fan

I was inferno
Trying to stay alive
Broken and tired
But I don't wanna sing that song again
Now that we're over
And our love is occupied
A little bit older
Under the moon
We can see how the galaxy changes

credits
from Loops of Life, released July 16, 2019
Jachary-Vocals, Bass, Synth.

Ben Katz-Sax

Buz Donald-Drums

Joy Moralis-Keys

Synead-Background Vocals

Frank Malloy-Percussion

Will Radin-Percussion

Felipe Wurst-Guitar

01 We

eddy apogee