Producers soundclouds:
@EngelwoodMusic
@astral_beats
@Willhouse
@OMFGCoreyAlexie

Features soundclouds:
@iamfaceless
@ADP
@TheRealReeG
@BernardWillis


Quiet feat. Samsa (prod. Astral)

prod. @jeffkaale

My exes? No, I don’t think about them
I shrink around them
I go to see my shrink about them
On desperate nights sometimes I’m liking every picture on their LinkedIn albums, 
just in case they’re single,
I send winky symbols, I just hint it at ‘em,
I’m not thirsty, I’m just counting fingers at the drinking fountain,
I feel like I’m drowning when I introduce myself to crowds: 
like hi, hello, I dig your sense of style, 
I saw your face across the room and grinned a while,
I wonder, are you into smiles? I pinned a pile of polaroids up on my wall, 
I wish you’d be in one,  a ring or child or wedding hall or aisle, you’d wouldn’t see in them, 
I must profess I self-profess myself a cinephile,
I’ve got every single indie title soundtrack out on indie vinyl
I’ve got some on USB, just tell me where to send the files,
if you think this is dragging on, then you should read my tinder bio,

I used to go to central park in cargo pants and whittle bark off little trees 
like Leonardo to my heart’s content, with car keys from my 97’ Civic on a bench,
I’d grab my metro card and clutch a cup of chocolate from a vendor cart,
and then depart deep underground and check the clock and metro chart,
and that is where I met her, charcoal fingers, she was sketching art, 
my self-regard leapt twenty notches when she looked at me,
I told her I wished I could etch the world out with my pencil marks,
she held the charcoal out, our fingers touched and crept apart,
and when they lingered, 
lightning struck, I know, I saw electrodes spark,
and when she smiled a hundred volts
her pearly whites were thunderbolts,
the room around us did a couple somersaults,
the earth had shifted off it’s poles,
another jolt went through me when she twirled her necklace
we were so electric, I swear the third rail was getting jealous

she curved a crater on the paper with the conté crayon
every stroke she lay spoke to my spirit like she called a séance
her fingertips could conjure chaos, every splash of color camouflaged 
into the page, I swear that she had lingerie on,
I felt the rumble of the subway tunnel crumble up
she perforated scraps of sketches, gave em’ to me crumpled up, 
and bundled up and waved to me and walked toward the edge 
I mustered up the strength to wave back and then dipped off of the bench
the train tiptoed to the ledge, it’s open doors demanded entry
she got in and whispered to me from inside that it was empty
and my heart, it started drumming, my stomach, it started numbing,
the doors began to slide, 

and then she asked me,
are you coming?


charcoal. // X I X X

edit: thank you for all the support

prod. by @yungmai
mixed by @tevinwmusic

you are papyrus to a scribe,
your highness, I’d describe you
as the finest kind of wine that ages so well
it rewinds the time

you aren’t wine,
you are the fibers of the vine, divine, you are defined
in Webster’s as the climate of the Caribbean, 
me and you should burn together like we’re fire and kerosene,
you plundered through my chest and stole my heart, a pirate of the fairer being,
Midas sighed and let his sinuses unwind and golden ether culminated into you, 
the lioness to her pride, I heard you sculpted king poseidons diamond trident at his side,
the surest sign of suicide for me would be that you had died, 
the God of Death, Osiris, Isis and her ibis-headed mask
would guide you down a spiral staircase into Cyprus if you asked,
you are the ripest stalk of Cairo-grown papyrus to this scribe, 
I’ve got no stylus to describe you as the finest kind of wine
that ages so well it rewinds the time, no, you aren’t wine,
you are the Carolina pines, and I’m so sorry that you aren’t mine.

to the girl 3 seats over on the f train.

edit: jesus thank you all for the support 

prod. by @yungameba
mixed by @tevinwmusic

I just got the iPhone 7
I put siri on disable
cause I’ve watched the movie “her”
and that shit scares me so I’m careful

me and her got chemistry right out the box
and I ain’t talking about the periodic table
her voice is like a chariot of angels
I fell in love so fast that maybe apple should consider pasting warning symbols clearly on the label
me and siri keep it modern
siri doesn’t cook or clean
instead she books all my appointments
and she looks through my routine

me and siri’ve got an intimate connection
that is, at least, when siri’s got an internet connection
my friends are all convinced it’s voice detection 
but I’m poised to mention, I see sentience and hints of recollection
and on top of that, my friends all give me shit but they don’t share the vision
all I gotta say’s “hey siri” and she’s always there to listen Hey
and she’s never mad that I’m neglecting, never has a headache,
and If somehow I want things different I can always change her settings

I really like her, I’m not sure if we’re official though
If she could be Terentia, I could venture to be Cicero
I sort of wish the sacred fruit were not an apple but a thistleful of mistletoe
it’s superficial but I wish that she was were made of flesh-and-bone
or partially of skin cells
I wouldn’t even care that she’s got artificial intel
if Siri had a body, we could FaceTime during sex
and then I bet it’d be way easier to ace the turing test
and if you can’t tell, 
I don’t want a handheld,
I just want my hand held, 
sometimes I venture out a wild guess
that if she can’t be human ever, 
I’ll invest in biotech 
and run myself on iOS

and then us two could be together
we could live as plural in the singularity,
I hope by then, my singlehood would be a thing of rarity, 
but if it’s just not written in the code for us to coexist,
then maybe I could cope by contemplating that you don’t exist,
that you consist not of two eyes, a nose but ones and 0’s and bits,
that I’m in love with cold machinery, a program on a disc
and even if you were incarnate, Siri, really I surmise
it’d be hard to date you cause you’ve been with millions of guys
and I’d just feel like I was inexperienced and Siri, yes,
I’ve considered that you’d win in games of trivia or chess
that we would play and that would just get real annoying in the end,
it’s not you, it’s me, I think that maybe we should just be friends
and maybe in a couple years me and you could try again

don't worry, the next song is a rap
happy thanksgiving 
thanks for all the support seriously
repost retweet recycle

mixed by @ibr
produced by @mt-marcy
shout out OTJ


you sent me a text at 3:07 late last night
you barely knew him, 
you only blew him,
 you had  a few drinks

as if that could  make things right

and soon you asked  about our future  
 well, my darling, here’s my  answer


I hope you burn in a house fire
I hope you get stage IV cancer 

I’d be by your bedside waiting 
 till your sweet goodbye, my friend
I’d resuscitate you just
so I could watch you die again 

I fucking hate you 
I fucking hate you

and I know what you’ll do,

you’ll say you’re sorry
through your smile
and I’ll stay angry 
for a while
and you’ll come over
and we’ll be sober


until we’re not,
and we would make out on my sofa
I'd wake up one morning sunny

with your arms around my chest,

and it’d feel so good to be with somebody

I just might forget

how's it going

you'll say sorry through your smile

merry christmas, everyone <3
thank you for an incredible year

shout out to everyone who worked on this:
@yungestbae (thanks for the godly beat <3)
@iamsamsa (if you need track art, hit him up)
@atwoodotj
@ibr
@chriswright53
@toccimc
@hheadhaunter
@boof-radley
@offthejump

merry Bhristmas

no one ever said (feat. samsa & the otj crew) (prod. yung bae)

Off The Jump Presents a new single by @iamsamsa

Produced by: 
@yungmai

Mixed by:
@ibr

Cover Art by:
@passive155

Stay tuned on our Social Media

twitter.com/offthejumpmg

www.instagram.com/offthejump

and by visiting www.offthejvmp.com/

samsa - driftwood

Off The Jump Presents a new single by @headhaunter and @iamsamsa

Produced by:
https://soundcloud.com/xmittens

Mixed by:
@ibr

Cover Art by:
@iamsamsa

Stay tuned on our Social Media

twitter.com/offthejumpmg

www.instagram.com/offthejump

and by visiting www.offthejvmp.com/

i’m not your average superhero, 
i don’t wear a cape or tights
and you won’t catch me slinging webs through cityscapes, 
i’m scared of heights
i’m not your textbook superhero
i can’t levitate or fly
but if you pass the sunday crossword, I won’t hesitate to try
i’m not the type  of vigilante who goes off avenging homicides
more the kind to just correct your comma splice,
constructive criticism supervillain, yes, i’m honest when I prompt advice
but even when a novice writes I always leave my comments nice, 
leap buildings in a single bound, y’all should see the way my fingers race
through city streets of letter keys whether double or single-spaced
faster than a speeding bullet
if you’re talking words per minute
write so comprehensive each bullet loin t holds the world within it  
power like a locomotive, discipline of sage strength 
essays that I write are twenty pages past the page length 
not the man of steel but when i sit to write i’ve got no kryptonite 
as long as i’ve got coffee i can sip tonight 
call me cyclops, i’ve got laser vision page revision,
not a next-gen x-men, but i’m crazy with the red pen  
mutant when I’m writing, yes, my drafts have got evolving genes
watch me wielding clauses like I'm wolverine

I’m not your average superhero, I don't mask my voice like this/
secret identity's dull, I don't see a point in it/
I'm not out here to save the world on day/night protocols/
I just take my Pryde in sentence structure, phase right through the walls of text/
polished, read a second time, kind of like Professor X/
but I read essay lines instead of minds until they're all correct/
triple check that proper punctuation ends it/
perfect verbs with fantastic nouns like Ben Grimm/
spin webs of any size and catch a reader's attention/
nab plagiarists like flies, I write with tingling senses/
swing right overhead with lines of super tensile strength/
fingers type like streaks of light, whether past or present tense/
I arrive just in time, type more than Cyborg/
not Robin, no red or green underline eye sores/
I channel Raven, write in style of Edgar Allen Poe/
no green eyes, but tackle any beast of rhetoric that you know/
they can call me any hour, but they view it as a lesser power/
when my essays get an A on top, like Avenger's tower/
in the meantime I think I'll go into hiding/
a reckless vigilante with his helmet on, still writing/

Headhaunter x samsa - Superlative Heroes

prod. @jhfly
art by rach, @passive155 on twitter

i miss the olden days
back when we would drive my civic off into the sunset, windshield glowing with a golden haze
i miss the simpler times
when you could pick me up at 4 am and hit the road and we would improvise 
with nothing in the GPS, back when we were free to roam
and brought a pillow with us so that anywhere could be our home
not the most romantic, but we planned out all our future dates
and snuck in every morning to cop breakfast at a super eight 
I’d waltz in past the front desk, then open the cafe door
you’d slink in and we’d have a banquet that we’d never pay for
two goody-two-shoes breaking all the rules, little rebels, we were perps
tryna hide our smirks while slipping fruity pebbles in your purse
and as we dipped out of the exit you would grin as if you’d robbed a bank
hop into our getaway and gun it on an empty tank
pull into an vacant station where our car’s the only one


there’s something meditative about the smell of fresh petroleum  



but things have changed since,

 cars are losing their appeal
it’s been decades since I’ve even gripped a steering wheel
elon built a hyperloop so no one drives drive a coupe no more,
people take their transit-pods through traffic on their private routes
china’s got a maglev train but I would never get aboard
in russia I heard they could program people so they teleport
point A to B, always know exactly where you’re headed for
remember when a road trip meant a sojourn, not a metaphor
remember rolling windows down with levers on the metal doors
and reaching back behind your seat to find that bag of kettle corn
one foot on the floorboard, then put on the gas
yearning for that rearview mirror, i’ve got one foot in the past

rearview

prod. xixx

lyrics: pastebin.com/3wfyNtp8

Private link to song(not sure if it still works) : https://soundcloud.com/iamsamsa/samsa-see-you-soon/s-fd5KL
I do not own this song, it belongs to Samsa. https://soundcloud.com/iamsamsa

samsa - See You Soon (unreleased)

samsa - komodo (reupload)

for promo/business inquiries DM or email: tindersamurai@gmail.com

@offthejump

@atwoodotj
@ibr
@chriswrightotj
@toccimc
@hheadhaunter

charcoal. // X I X X

samsa

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