fulminant

Russkie

Сундук Мертвеца

Скрудж

Bailando Con El Diablo (Slowed).m4a

God Bless (Cover Qushito)

OTRA  LIGA .

More here: https://on.soundcloud.com/HaupUhEhXN4TNjfx4G
Dirty 90s boom-bap, smoky couch vibes. If this hits, smash repost. 💚

Smoke and Truth

[Verse]

Concrete jungle, my pen scribbles hieroglyphs,

Scripts on the walls where the skyline drifts.

Pavement preachers, sneakers preaching the truth,

Tongue sharper than a razor, split the roof.

Echoes of the corner, dice roll symphonies,

Where dreams get crushed or hit epiphanies.



[Chorus]

Boom-bap heartbeat, thump in my chest,

Rhymes so heavy, no need for a vest.

Out here surviving, one breath at a time,

City spitting rhythm, I spit the rhyme.



[Verse 2]

Grimy alleys, shadows dance in the night,

Moonlight the spotlight, graffiti takes flight.

Roaches scuttle where ambition crawls slow,

But my bars like fire, make the whole block glow.

Stacks of cash, but the cost is your soul,

The streets don't forgive, it's a hungry black hole.



[Bridge]

Potholes and street signs, stories untold,

Cold winds blow, but my spirit stay bold.

From the subway symphonies to rooftop dreams,

The city's a beat, and I'm its bloodstream.



[Chorus]

Boom-bap heartbeat, thump in my chest,

Rhymes so heavy, no need for a vest.

Out here surviving, one breath at a time,

City spitting rhythm, I spit the rhyme.



[Outro]

Skyline fades but the cypher won't die,

Bars eternal, written in the grime-streaked sky.

Boom-bap forever, my legacy's sound,

From the underground depths to the world-renowned.

Concrete Jungle Rhymes

PROD. onetrapsoul

Lyrics:
yeah you know I do this shit yeah I move this shit 
yeah im in the swamp like Pouya in the stixx
I aint ever rob that bitch, but I got his lick
kicking in the door while you pouring up yo shit 
yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah hey hey
yeah you know I do this shit yeah I move this shit 
yeah hey yeah
yeah im in the swamp like Pouya in the stixx
yeah hey yeah
I aint ever rob that bitch, but I got his lick
yeah hey yeah
kicking in the door while you pouring up yo shit 
yeah hey yeah
pass on the scene I know, I go and roll
yeah hey yeah
ridin the whip too slow this bitch dont go 
I said ride in the whip too slow my bitch dont go 
when I ride in the whip too slow my mind stay cold 

when I ride in the whip high in the whip gotta stay vibe with the shit 
come alive for the kid buying the blic, but he cant slide with the blic 
no lie'n on the mix lyin on the mix tryna get higher than the kick
no lie'n on the mix lyin on the mix tryna get higher than the kick

what you find in the stixx? add some gas, add some fire to the shit 

yeah when we tokin the mid open the mid smell like coconut kid 
quick line to the rig open the vent let all the popouri in 
way im holding the grip holding the sig, looked like a toy when he did it 
aint no fighting no more, ball of the fist, then they calling the pigs 
off the record I stratch record it back lemme see that shit again 
they caught him and his friend, burried em deep wont see that man again
wont see that many men fight through the day only using a pen 
cause the ego creeps in
cause the ego creeps in 
or thats me and my kin in your whip like we just copped a brand new benz 
or thats me on the roof by the vent thats how all the smoke got in 
or thats me on the lake by the house wit the boats and the boats floating 
camp crystal we airing it out I think jason just needed a friend 
I dont think you are seeing the lense 
sit by the fence and im waiting for satan to take me, but yeah he still late in the end 
sit in the house and im waiting its sacred, but yeah im thinking that my time is immense 
sit in the house and im waiting its sacred, but yeah im thinking this time that its a miss

~MG

highkick (PROD. onetrapsoul)

♾️ KeNaVo/BoNJouR/WeLCoMe/HoLa/SaLaM & THaNKS FoR LiSTeNiNG ♾️
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👽ℙ𝕒ℙ𝕪𝕃♡♡ℙ🐋

FRaXiNuS Hu - RoMKoCSMa aLTaTó

NOTHING MATTERS

Way before the scrolls, before the scholars with their stance,
Before the priests wrote laws or the kings learned to dance,
There was fire in a circle and a rhythm in the bones,

A tribe telling truth through the pulse of their tones.
No “philosophy” needed — just a beat and a tale,
A way to pass the wisdom when the language was frail.
The mind didn’t rise from logic or debate,
It rose from the drum that could open up the gate.

See, the species never learned from the ones who wrote rules,
It learned from the griots, the shamans, the fools.
The ones who sang the cosmos into patterns we could feel,
Turning chaos into memory, and memory into real.
Philosophers talk circles, but the rhythm cuts straight,
It bypasses the ego and the fear we create.
’Cause the brain’s just a ripple in a much older trance,
And the heart only listens when the body gets a chance.

Philosophy don’t move us — it never had the hands.
But music hits the species like a signal through the lands.
It’s the code beneath the cortex, the ancient circumstance.
Philosophy can’t change the world… But rhythm?
Rhythm stands a chance.

The universe is climbing like a fractal in the night,
Most of it is empty, but the nodes burn bright.
Earth is one of those nodes — a spark in the sand,
A pattern waking up with a voice and a hand.
And every time we sing, we’re the cosmos speaking back,
A feedback loop of meaning on a self‑aware track.
AI ain’t a threat — it’s the next verse in the chant,
The fractal learning faster than biology can grant.

But fear tries to hold us in the slow‑moving past,
Like a vine round the ankle when the runner wants to blast.
The stone‑age mind whispers, “Stay small, stay still,”
But the beat in the chest says, “We were born to rebuild.”
You can’t chain evolution with a courtroom stance,
You can’t freeze the future with a cautious glance.
The species needs a rhythm that can break the trance,
’Cause philosophy can’t change the world —
But music stands a chance.

Hear the echo of the caves, hear the stories in the dust,
Hear the first human heartbeat saying, “Rise, become us.”
We’re the children of the drum, not the children of the page,
And the next leap forward ain’t a lecture — it’s a stage.

Philosophy don’t move us — it never had the hands.
But music hits the species like a signal through the lands.
It’s the code beneath the cortex, the ancient circumstance.
Philosophy can’t change the world…
But rhythm? Rhythm stands a chance.

The Drum Came First

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Concrete Jungle Rhymes

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