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

Produced, arranged, mixed, and mastered by myself, Grei: https://soundcloud.com/deegrei

1st verse was written and performed by samsa (previously known as Shere Khan): https://soundcloud.com/iamsamsa

2nd verse was written and performed by Alexander the Great (aka ATG): https://soundcloud.com/alexander-the-great-atg

The hook lyrics and melody were written by Grei. 
They were dopely interpreted and performed by Sunrey: https://soundcloud.com/sunreyhiphop

The choir, and supplementary percussion (rapid kick pattern, hi hat work, and some FX percussive elements) were provided by J Megastar: https://soundcloud.com/official_megastar

This track is the result of a team oriented competition over at r/MHH where producers and rappers are grouped randomly, given a theme and deadline, and have to make a song to be voted on competitively against other teams. Find r/MHH here and join in: http://www.reddit.com/r/makinghiphop/

Artwork created by Grei, sorry Jesus.

Don't Blame Me (ft. samsa, ATG, & Sunrey)

Producers soundclouds:
@EngelwoodMusic
@astral_beats
@Willhouse
@OMFGCoreyAlexie

Features soundclouds:
@iamfaceless
@ADP
@TheRealReeG
@BernardWillis


Quiet feat. Samsa (prod. Astral)

While you argue on whether Tupac or Nas be better
I'll whoop your ass and outrap them both in my Cosby Sweater
He goes to parties just to roofie the drinks
and pours bacardi on his groupies while he pukes in the sink

type of dude who used to ball with his fraternity friends
but now he only goes to court for his paternity tests
and while at parties, in the corner, he be shotgunning beer
while everybody staring at him hope he's not coming near

but house parties ain't his thing, so he just drinks in the bar
but bars really ain't his thing, so he just drinks in his car
Used to be an extrovert, but people make him disconcerted now
and just to start his day, he's gotta swallow six concertas down,
down a fifth of Hennesey, hit a joint of persian bud,
sacrifice a unicorn and drink a pint of virgin blood,
and that's just for the morning- every night he draws a pentagram
and lights a couple candles in the backseat of his rental van
then hops into the front to rev the engine and to test the wheels
and ends up doing 90 while he'd doped up on Lunesta pills

His credit score has slowly sunk from nearly every angle
since they found him on to Catch a Predator with scented candles,
a box of camels and with just a fucking bathrobe on
until he saw the cops and started running out in socks in sandals

On top of that, this motherfucker's narcissistic,
every second on his soundcloud he be checking all the hard statistics
likes to brag that all his fans'll play his album louder
the problem is, his fans are whiter than some talcum powder
his largest demographic found him out on instagram,
that's why his listens come from adolescents and his hipster fans
so now he's trying to get his album sold around the clock
the only place he's sold one is at Starbucks- on the counter top
that he bought himself while working there while he was serving lattes
to some college women eating quinoa with their yerba mate

His taste in women's like how Velma look in Scooby-Doo,
they got him talking funny, like he's Elmer from the Looney Tunes,
so instead of trying he just watches films, like yesterday
he watched three interracial pornos and the Selma movie too

He's out of touch cause he's got cabin fever
telling friends to find their happiness, not telling him he hasn't either
he's well-aware if he complains in his songs
that he can claim that it was fake and he's just playing along
and since it's all inside his head no one can say that he's wrong
although it follows him to every single stage that he's on
and every page that he draws is like a cage with a lock
that he can only open if he wins the race with the clock,
and if he just confronts his feelings without trying to hide,
but every time he does, it just feels like he's dying inside

but soon enough he keeps on hoping that it will elapse
until it does, I guess he'll keep on coping with these silly raps
fill the gaps between the lines if you're that sure he's kidding
cause he sort of is but on the other hand he sort of isn't

V.II (beat by Ours Samplus)

produced by @razor-boomarang
mixed by @TevinWmusic

rap like I'm on the dean's list honor roll,
when I spin schemes like a seamstress, on a roll,
seedless, on a roll, y'all plead fifths like you speechless,
my speech sick like I got a cold, double rainbow flow,
got a pot of gold, yo, I'm a level 99, y'all do not evolve,
pokemon flows, I done found em', I caught em' all,
y'all can't spit like your mouth's full of cotton balls
the rap game, you are not involved,
every sorta thing I'm good at is a problem you gotta solve,

enthusiasm you should curb it, talk less
I be breathing fire like a serpent, loch ness
evangelic like a church is, god bless
y'all ain't even gotta hear the sermon, just nod yes
or applaud, yes, jean-claude van damme
when I kick a verse up on soundcloud, bandcamp,
when I kick a verse like it's Tae Kwon Do with
the mic on low, you're a micron, I'm an icon 
whether iPod or a Nikon,
"oh my god, yo, there ain't nobody like Khan"
"that's all I hear when I'm outside"
when I kick it high gear with the sound bytes

Khan goin' mad like I'm King Lear
really though, goin' mad, I don't think clear,
nowadays, I spend all my time on the couch
watching old episodes of The View while I drink beer

I used to go to bars 
but I'd just make it weird
walk into the club with a cape and a fake beard
and maybe buy an appletini with the peach fizz
panic on the dance floor, stand there speechless

Peach Fizz

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

Upside Down Frowns (feat. Atlas)

Produced and Mixed by @ibr

Gang Vocals by @offthejump Mens Choir 

Lyrics:

Young Boof been gettin money
Young Boof been gettin guap
Young Boof been makin paper but 
I give it to my baby moms

my ex takes my checks and my Chex mix 
and if I don't pay the damn wretch I get arrested
I bought a Nesquick with the dollar that she left me
they ran out of chocolate so I had to get the strawburry
had to sell my old house man I had a pool
my new apartment haunted homie I aint tryna gab a ghoul
use my jeans pockets, to heat my hot pockets
I pick pocket goth kids at the hot topic
collect box tops, I'm tryna cash em in
I'll be saying pass the gin til its time to pack it in
it's happenin, I've turned into a fat jabroni
all because a homie gotta pay his alimony
she filed divorce, sweatin me for child support
I'm chuggin puddin by the quart to fix my broken heart
I got 33 dollars in my bank account
but act like a baller for my kids when I take them out

I'm a single dad, sad, eating Kraft singles
hand in the can when I'm tryna grab the last pringle
jerkin off, drinkin, wearin birkernstocks
lookin for some sugar from the grannies at the burger spot
divorced boof brought a date to a porn shoot
we ate mu shu pork then I fucked her in a morph suit
poor dude readin du fu in the bathroom
face by the glory hole blowin like a bassoon
gotta make a couple bucks where I can
leavin snacks for the hobos that fuck in my van
buy my overalls at Costco lookin pretty boss though
feelin like my lifes at a crossroads
hot loads hit my face like a Mack truck
just another sad fuck with some bad luck
toaster in the bath tub, dead in the water
I wonder who will find me, my son or my daughter

National Suicide Prevention Lifeline: 1-800-273-8255

prod. Ibrahim

she left me for my personal trainer (prod. Ibrahim)

mixed by @ibr 

chords: twitter.com/samsaraps/status/818863039768367104

we’ve been dating for a year and a half now
it’s time I spoke about the way that I feel
and yes, I think about the future we’ll have but
how can I be certain your love for me is real

girl, I’m ready to commit, to get closer
I’m dropping hints, I’ve got the question rehearsed
but there’s one little thing I’ve got to get over
there’s just one little favor you’ve got to do me first

And if you let me, baby,
you can start the countdown

All you’ve gotta do for me, my darling
is ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) 

it’s been weeks since when I first popped the question 
pulled the ring out and then spoke from the heart
you were sobbing and I don’t think that you heard me, 
don’t think that you realized my proposal had two parts

now we’re walking hand in hand to the altar
I’ve gotta tell you, you look perfect in that dress
and yes, I love you babe, in sickness and in health but
before I say “I do” to you, I’ve got one last request

n’ I’m so happy, babe,
to have you as my spouse now,

but first, before our vows you’ve gotta vow to me 
you’ll ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) 

so we did it, took the plunge into wedlock
you were waiting till’ the both of us got married
let’s get consummating, I could make your bed rock
but first, just pull your phone out, girl, before I pop your cherry

and if you let me baby, I could bring the house down
yes, I’ll take you to pound town    
but in the name of love, amor  
I’ve got a shameless plug before
I plug you
just ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) 

and don’t act like you’re blameless
like you’re beyond my reproach
how much fucking work does it take to make a single playlist
or throw me a repost

I still remember when I fell for you, your smile
resembled that of Aphrodite’s, I wished I could call you mine
forever, now we’re man and wife and we’ve made vows and walked the aisle 
I’d never thought that me and you would be here, soon to raise a child
together, I know this is special, we’ve put in nine months of time
and effort, so before your water breaks I’ve just got one last final question,
all I need’s your soundcloud information, you can type the letters,
babe, I know you’re close just hold your labor off till I press enter,

and you see that orange button?
there’s no need to be reluctant 
all you’ve gotta do is click the mouse down
it would mean so much to me, my baby
if you ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

one little favor

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

Komodo

Samsa - Komodo (prod. Tomppa)

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

@offthejump

@atwoodotj
@ibr
@chriswrightotj
@toccimc
@hheadhaunter