OFFICIAL MUSIC VIDEO:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2TtHapTsfPs

LYRICS: 

Kev Bars -

Seems like it'll deliver you from your miseries/
but big business couldn't even define the synergy/
When you could barely find the energy
Cuz you can truly relate to entities with pockets feelin emp-uh-tee (empathy)/
Realer than you'll ever be, but willing to trade it in/
Change your strange ways, do whatever it takes to win/
eat your stake (steak), cakin, makin them major ends/
Wasn't meetin now you peakin (peekin/peek-in) 
At your feats (feets), what ya gain ya spend/
on your demons - preach em as beliefs to obtain your spins/ 
so them heathens - keep it on repeat and get paid to then
honor thee - who probably believes that "only I ('Eye') can see”/
Overshot the oddities to try be anomaly (and not believe)/
And honestly - it often be so damn disgraceful and abhorrent /
When I wake up in the mornin still dormant from the borin' /
Old spoken chloroformin' opiated to the core /
I'm cold shakin' til I'm floored - it's so vacant, but I've scored/

Takt - 

Geniuses never separate –
We: the only species (that) perseverate
on ideas to segregate…
it’s a fucked-up take on how We give –
it’s actually natural to acclimate
(but) we’ve never learned how to live…
connection never needed excuses –
{(it’s) more of a reasoning}
systems present us logic and “-ish”…
but tendered shit is rather abusive/
stopped bridging the gap, trying to gap the bridge/
let’s drag the river and swim,
learn to control the water (again & again),
we always change after the changes we don’t want –
giving a dam(n), stay in the wind, with the what-nots…
We joining vapor and air for the sub-plots,
seeped from the underground,
puttin’ out the “conglome-rot”,
streaming a flow that Done-Been sought…
We got-a-lotta’ Power in Mind/in Thoughts –
offer solutions with thine…
tryin’ to keep a balance, positive, toeing the alkaline…
I’d rather sit in the clouds than rhyme…(that’s not it…)
I’d rather sit in the clouds than die…(My bad)
…I’d rather sit in the clouds, then reign…(sometimes)

Ben Black -

Rhyming of killing egos isn't wise when rhyming is the ego.
Find me filling feed holes with this primo. Eat it up.
The meat is in its deeper cut. Cerebral like it's off the top,
But if the bleeding doubles its initial meaning's all for naught-naught-naughty boys.
What has it come to?
Flaunting poise when all rise through, abreast (a breast).
The cuckoo's nest is all fly; no one flew. 
We hogtied to bust through.  
See, not like the tall guy would bust through.
Chief- ah, fine. Y'all quite befuddled. 
A victim of my own contempt.
Let me break it down for the small town folk.
Steady aiming rounds in this silo, erect. 
Its missiles reflected a fallout. 
Smog down throat, found smog down throat.
These lungs will pay debt with each cough; now choke.
We dummies ain't men to preach substance, amen.
See, nothing makes sense, but it all sounds dope.
You reek of pensiveness.
Don't, please. It only goes as deep as the references. 
But, I just referenced this. I'm such a clever kid.
Someone should let me jizz into the black hole.
This dick is getting astro.
It's wisdom with a rad flow right out my third eye.  
Like, UGHHHH ooooh oh enlightened on the first try. 
Oh, right. Right, forgot I gotta keep up the irreverence.
Well, I like Xbox 360, pepperoni pizza, and MTG,
And being a fucking hypocrite any chance I get.
Toss those on the CV. To all my homies, GG.

Just a few trivial complaints coming your way. Whether it be corporate greed, a lack of togetherness, or the unexamined self; everything will blow over by sunrise. 

CREDIT/CONTACT INFO:

Instrumental: Zavala - Take My Hand

Recorded/Mixed/Mastered by Mike Hehir 
Twitter/Instagram - @DiqueMike

Kev Bars - https://soundcloud.com/kevbars

Takt - https://iamtakt.bandcamp.com/

Ben Black - https://itsbenblack.bandcamp.com/

Thank you for listening.



Gripes (ft. Kev Bars and Takt)

This is the first single off my upcoming project, Cycles. 

Substitute suicidal thoughts with deluded ones of grandeur.
That's just how I cope.

LYRICS:

[Back and forth and (x8)]
[Back again] 

This blood is getting cleansed through a machine.
(Yeah (x7))
That's not a metaphor. 
Honey, let me rest. A cut is healthy to the seam
When death is pecking at its stitches. 
Dip the bed. I'll rot, forevermore. 
(Six months) A sinkhole to my (Six months) Fuck, been only (Six months) thrice a week,
Yet Hell expunged the life in me. 
Filling the void with expensive nothing.
Boy, he's such a frenetic glutton. 
Killing noise over butchered gut.
Throwing hoodies up, shove a scythe in me.
This soul is now living fervor flirting with the dead,
With both its homes bridged with six dirtied feet and some lead. 
Best believe the holy trinity is Cerberus's heads. 
I'll place the nickels, trade up Styx. We'll sink into the river bed, yes! 

[Back and forth and (x3)]
Let's sink into the river bed, yes! 
[Back and forth and (x3)]
(Please, sink into the river bed)

Yes, to etch his epitaph's been a gut checked Rockwell. 
Yet, flesh kept dragging like some unkempt mongrel. 
His skeleton is trapped in a sunken model. 
Its exodus will flag the next hostel. 
Yes, to etch his epitaph's been a gut checked Rockwell. 
Yet, flesh kept dragging like some unkempt mongrel. 
(So, put him down) Put him down.
(Put him down) Put him down.
(Bullets found depth passing above the head, honcho)

Revolver to the mouth, rounds bounce in the echo chamber (2x) 
Clawing out its snout, the dogma howled from every neighbor.
Hell impounded all embalmed who crowned death a savior. 
Revolver to the mouth, rounds bounce in the echo chamber (2x)
Clawing out its snout, the dogma howled from every neighbor. 
Hell will disembowel this town, let's wager.

I saw light.
I saw light.
I saw-

Cross out any jag to roam passed.
Captured off route, long snouts press in (maverick) toed tracks.
Tacks hit my road map in droves. 
Closed gaps find no traction.
I'll fold that whole mass, mold half my home's bastion.
(Nomad, it's no man's land. The crows drag 'em)
No, man. These nomad's hands are chrome magnums. 
Throat rasp is barrel smoke; flow so cro-magnon. 
Poach, then rack, then wear the coat. Oh, no no no. It's fashion.
I'd succumb to all en vogue, if I could hunt the fucking skin myself.
(Brother, you sport such lovely pelt)
Gluttony is (wealth) Home is gluttony is (health)
I will plug any torso, 'till the stomach feeds itself.
Every gash in your gut just cuts to the cash.
Gushes, it gushes. Success is stacks on the cusp, but crushing the stash. 
This (summit) is above a d-dump of savagery in bones and c-notes in ash. 
Just hand me the skulls, I'll treat those to plaques.
Vanity is all my ego has. 

[Back and back again]

I saw light!
I saw light! 
I saw light! 
I saw light!
I saw-

Draw your muzzles, all you like.
Once it's dawn, I will be alright. (x2)

I saw light.

CREDITS/CONTACT INFO:

Instrumental: Black Moth Super Rainbow - Early 70's Gymnastics

Recorded/Mixed/Mastered/Effects by Mike Hehir
https://twitter.com/DiqueMike

Ben Black 
http://instagram.com/itsbenblack
https://itsbenblack.bandcamp.com/
https://www.facebook.com/itsBenBlack
https://www.youtube.com/user/RadiateNation5

Thank you for listening.

.357 (I Saw Light)

My first originally produced track, this song had been on the back burner for awhile. I finally decided to release it. 

Vilifying materialism while being a huge consumer, myself. 
I learn to embrace who I am. 

LYRICS:

No body to flambé, no carnivore left 
If black bloc enclaves won't harvest your death.
Yes, I'll pile any marked targets with fire I've kept.
It is live. Quiet on the set. (check)
(Disenfranchised infection or disinfected franchise?)
Standby, gathering up data on what's anti. 
Standby, channeling my cadence off a land line.
A bandit wouldn't standby. Your bandwidth is bands high.
Man alive! Count it, sheep. Shrouded in a mound of fleece. 
Go to bed, it IS all overhead as if about to sleep.
Mana live. Magic is a double edged sword. 
What did I cut the heads for? Tap tap, get out of me.
Just trapped in the cavalry; dangled carats in quotas. 
All that is garish will atrophy off the back of Epona.
So, let us mangle the faculties where the saddled spines forced the-
Tri state to empower any horse riding Porsches. 
Highs stakes, bet you can't invade the lone fortress
20k leagues under Davy Jone's corpses. 
Knock knock, smile. "This product is volatile." 
By applause, ironically tossed to the stockpile.
I'll welcome all the fire I get. 
Hellish time to reflect. Yes, quiet on the set.
No rock is concave, no troglodyte's left
If black black bloc enclaves won't honor my death.

Ugh, all these effigies fester in my gut. 
If only I would focus, I could be my own apothecary.
Dragging down. Gobble it up. Gobble it up. Just gobble it up.
I'll off myself a thousand times over until the skull is buried. 
Gobbling up. Just gobbling up. 
Hm, not as scary as I thought. 
It goes straight down the hatch. Just keep me clawing away as you lower the capsule. 
One time for me.

CREDITS/CONTACT INFO:

Produced/Mixed/Mastered by Mike Hehir (Analog Jam)

Co-produced by Julian Stricker (Analog Jam)

Ben Black
http://itsbenblack.bandcamp.com/
instagram.com/itsBenBlack
www.facebook.com/itsBenBlack
www.youtube.com/user/RadiateNation5

Thank you for listening.

Dig It (Prod. by Analog Jam)

Sometimes, I think I'm hip hop.

Instagram/Twitter- @itsBenBlack


itsBenBlack

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