Post Nasal Drip

Forward.

Press 2

Press 2 [X the Artist x Evan Kreutzberg]

Dirty Talk (feat. Evan Kreutzberg)[Prod. by CorMill]

Buzzin' (feat. TheHundredsKid) [Prod. by CashMoneyAp]

Pressure (Okay, Bet) (feat. Mir Fontane, X the Artist) (Prod. by SP)

U BUMMY

my little remix/flip/bootleg/version of one of my favorite songs

All Your Love

I can feel your heart thumping 
I can see your body jumping 
Don’t you say you ain’t heard nothing 
I know that you heard something 

This song like a bitch ripping bong, can’t clear it 
You feel this in your soul, body, mind, and spirit
Never diss a peer but I got them disappearing 
Peering over people speaking shit, let’s get to spearing
Hold up hold up you was making calls, they Motorola
Motor boat her till she wetter than ocean soldier 
Your flow is only colder when you menstruate in Boulder 
My flow could give a fucking polar bear a cold shoulder
Ha ha, I think that AD got Allah or some God from synagogue up on his side   
I set a suit a side in case the beat can’t take the beating and committs some suicide 
I guess the losing side cannot just help but ooze at mine  
Circumcised, I ain’t lie about the hood 
Heard your lines, you should prolly use your clout for good 
Knock on wood, I believe in karma 
Keep the peace like Dali Lama 
Lyrical bullets hit your right on the  
head, now you dead, hope you feel this word trauma 
I’m the bomb like Obama when he killed Osama 
Do this shit all alone , I chef at Benihana 
Bend her over, get fried like it's Futurama 

Gimme the loot
Gimme the loot 
Soul on the track 
Need me some shoes  
I got a girl
She like Igor 
Got her shirt up like she Winnie the pooh
Ooo, look at the shit I do 
Gather around, get you a view 
Thick with a lisp got me spitting on you 
Drip in this bitch like a flood in the booth
Wiggety whack 
Bringing it back 
Killing the whack
Give me a strap 
Maybe a pistol
I don’t want issues 
I don’t know guns
Think I might mishoot 
Think I might hit you
Blat, blat, blat, Blat, 
bang bang bang bang 
rap, rap, rap, rap, 
sang sang sang sang  
I’m a peacock, you gotta let me fly 
If you see God, tell him I say hi
Out your speakers, Adam Dash rhymes 
You a tweeter? Get a fucking life
Oh shit, flow swift, no shit
I, flow this, throw fits, bogus mind
Notice it's my time to shine
Coldest on the fucking mic

While You Wait

Produce, Written, Record, and Mix all by myself.

10

evy

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