Collab with Billi5tik Beats . Weird rappin n stuff sup https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCKwhVkaqDtQaQYMFQhcN8Vg

Tidy (JohnBevier vs Billi5tik )

simply writing chords/melodies down is less tedious than remaking it into a wacky ass cpu-birthed blueprint and it is also less funny. this is procrastination mixed with making myself giggle.  

song from yesterday after being sucked into an evil gameboy and spit back out

sad song while in a good mood, nothing makes sense. i dont typically do SOLO music, but when i do it's always kind of stupid. im not really a guitar guy, or a singing guy, but i did everything in this at like 6:30 one morning. luckily the guy downstairs goes to work at 4;30.

lyrics:

how dare you choose one of those,
stupid pricks over me? 
i guess i just wasnt photogenic enough,
to fill a polaroid with data for developmental stages.

do you know, oh how much i wonder..
of how impressed you would've been,
just at the fact that i was so polite.

i used to stare at you and write,
.. that sight will never be forgotten.

until the b-day present boot,
then leaving me to watch a child,
take a stab at what i wanted to groom..

what did i want to groom? 
oh, you.. of course,
of course,
of course,
of course..

.. i used to have ticket, but i lost it once,
to never get it back because i wasn't bad,
what separated me from the men:
was a brain for a brain,
and a dick for a dick.

you never sent a facial connection,
sending me the signal that i had a chance..
.. i would've done it best.

i swear on every note thats wrote in cursive,
i've been reading them when it rains to clear my throat.
... to clear my throat. 


this barn living is on a last name [demo]

three track song, made it when i first installed protools/mbox onto my roommates cpu. consists of me bitching, one track of piddling on guitar with a shit not of distortion, and a loop i made with sound effects recorded around the apartment. 

Worthless Slang

first or last of six or seven songs i shit out in 2 days when i didnt have the internet. not having the internet ofcourse made me productive therefore an ep was born. this was before i knew anything of mixing and hardly anything about production, and i was all alone, so its pretty rough quality. circa 2009 or something 

Broken Record

Part two of Broken Record from the no-net ep, made the music to this whilst bruce was sleeping on fruit loops. Bruce woke up and recorded me yelling my ass off over it, then mixed it, and thus here it is. metal as fuck, fucked my voice up for a moment. 

Broken Record Pt 2

jazz time during disregardthisappliance two day ep party. 

Hidden Prize In a Tree Full Of Cabinets

i knew ahead of starting that this would be the last song i was doing for the disregardthisappliance ep thing, so i guess i tried to make it sound like the last song.

This Little Cliffhanger

I got bored before work, therefore I recorded a silly song to a beat that Brucey made in about 5 minutes. 

lyrix.
choking,
cricket chirping,
ambience behind a verse, 
im cursing, 
life of disses, 
sensing competition 
on the surface. 
circular apparatus 
attacking claws to purses. 
picking pockets, 
walking shopper, 
inner city merchant. 
stop the bravado
of all the stalling thought imperson…
.. at ors, face em/debate em
plate em and serve em up..
a servant, 
taking complaints of callers
for all the bosses. 
circuit, 
shorting out 
a boring outer, 
waterworks unheard of. 

im a learner, 
better from observation 
confrontations make me nervous.
unless i know I’m right,
but zero times that shits occurred. 
so i just hide in hampers full of clothes because I’m a.. 
curtain.. shadow half the time .

he went on the bridge and i did the graffiti,
off mumbling people all humbled and pretty.
i come feeling cumbersome and a bit gritty,
a man with a theory, a plan for a meeting, 
and greeting then leaving,
defeated the blinking. 
the heat he was seeking he cooonqqquuered. 
the negative evidence written and printed
definitive minute to sit at the alllllterrrr. 

I’m up to knees in leaves, 
humidifying both feet, 
my allergies are scouting sneezes 
like they know they need. 
to make the season 
feel cliche as we know it for being, 
constantly calling on calendars  
aka: reminder of the scenery. 

jack.. olatern demand 
it is back and seeking veaanngence, 
pitiful principal packing the 
criminals up in a van by the minute
for greeting then leaving,
defeated the blinking. 
the heat he was seeking he cooonqqquuered. 
the negative evidence written and printed
definitive minute to sit at the alllllterrrr.

i dont know, man.. i wouldnt even bother 
i dont know i should’ve never called her
i dont know i could’ve got a better offer
i dont know, man..  i wouldnt even bother 


Autumn Offer

A wacky/cloudy little track: beat by my sister Devi McCallion.

Pretty Good Time ft Devi McCallion

Cuddle Monster [Rough]

Jog to this: beat by Devi

lyrix:

i be the shit-kickin’ to starting of artist:
alarming to hard rock martyr mirage with charming intentions 
.. you gotta see me or even at least greet me to meet me
for god’s sake, lady.. i pray for you on the daily.
but you ain’t came yet to save us, 
so we gave that game of faith up..
then made our way back to not asking for forgiveness.
 
if a chick isn’t invisible.. men are cynical pillars
holding up the critical indifference that splits rom other bits of our living
.. but oh, forget it: i don’t even know what am getting  these lyrics.
.. where the shit was i even headed within that prior set of spitting?

im shy while dishing out the intro of this life, 
even though most of the time, 
I myself forget to wipe my own backside, 
yeah kids, you are motherfucking right: I’m the sad type.
so, there is no reliance quoting:
that i no-showed growing up, no golden moments of past life.

a loose fitting product,
I’m caught up in, revolving through
a crew of seedy profit..teers
installing tears into my viewers.
due to knocking..
peers into a narrative 
of nothing yet its shocking,
anyone to give a minute of their attention.
its sentimental mental floss, 
a medicine for critics,
to warp the minds of minors. 
with the finest scent of women.
hypnotizing classes with the flashes of a pigment,
of off-white skin, but its a sin for them to sniff it.
so they flee away to field with intention to find the giving..
stem to get second sensation of bud to tongue tip. 
willing to risk the venom and fucking up its sun-shift. 
never listen to the length of just how far a sun gets,
you within a city as your ripping through a done pit,
never viewing a duo-ceps to envision a gun show,
overdosing on vegetable soup is where i must go,
my m to the o.

a need to feel a hand, pressuring my lower back. 
a fleeting inspired demand: that is all I’ve got intact. 
a puzzle of befuddlement, the trouble is a product of it.
fuck it, i give up, that is all i got out of it.. 
humbled by a spirit follower, a stepping stone 
the end of something pivotal.. its pitiful, i admit it. 
.. i miss it like a swimming pool in winter,
i would give a healthy liver to re-live the wealth 
of basement dwelling with my exes exes little sister.  

I’m sick of thinking about it.
I’m sick of thinking about it.
moon fairy clocked out, now..
.. i sit and pout like HOW?

I’m sick of thinking about it.
I’m sick of thinking about it.
moon fairy clocked out, now..
.. do i have bits missed? doubt it. 

fuck a relationship: i’d rather build a spaceship
then fly away to outer space and masturbate instead of date a chick

a need to feel a hand, pressuring my lower back. 
a fleeting inspired demand: that is all I’ve got intact. 
a puzzle of befuddlement, the trouble is a product of it.
fuck it, i give up, that is all i got out of it.. 
humbled by a spirit follower, a stepping stone 
the end of something pivotal.. its pitiful, i admit it. 
.. i miss it like a swimming pool in winter,
i would give a healthy liver to re-live the wealth 
of basement dwelling with my exes exes little sister. 

Movie Night

Random verse I vomit onto a loop that Bruce farted out. 

A Day or Five [sloppy]

I had 30 minutes to take a shower and get ready for work, but I felt the need to waste time doing this really quickly. I hate myself. 

I should be getting ready.

I had a couple of hours until work, so i decided to make a lil quickie dumb song. enjoy brother. 

Commercial Of My Dreams

I learned to very important things about myself yesterday and had a dentist appointment this morning: so, i wrote this i guess.

Master Of The Facial Depth Interior

I have too much free time at work, so I remaking Fiona Apple's Get Gone on my laptop.. Couple days later and uh, now it's a song I guess. Have Fun. 

Get Gone (Fiona Apple Cover)

Two Fiona Apple covers in two weeks: This is how I spend my free time, I guess.. 

Hot Knife [Fiona Apple Cover Part Deux]

the story of a boy with multiple-personalities: one personality continuously sends the other bomb threats.

Recorded somewhere within the past life of 2011 for a past now-defunct [ 2009-2012 ] hip hop project: The Letter Nineteen. Lyrix by me and beat by Tyler Bruce. 

i sit and shiver at the thought, 
of all my personal bomb threats. 
my songs sit inside of my pits, 
but never be leaving my lips [ this just slipped out ] 
.. like an accident, yet not a happy specimen, 
im stressed again at the reality check that i ain't blessed. 

rolling through a glass path, ASAP: bleeding, 
warm and feeling the side effects of freezing, 
until it just slipped out.. 
even though when im dreaming: im mouthless, 
im pouring out until i've forgotten what this about is.. 
shout this to crowded rooms that are full of you couch fish, 
im solemnly singing that we've arrived to fill your out lists.. 

.. call me 'Lord Repetition' when nobody is getting this, 
i am getting sick that i've got so sick of getting sick of shit, 
i fit it then defend as if the placement wasn't hidden, 
like a monument with a talking head from children's television.. 
yeah, picture this... if you can recall the process, 
as i sit and shiver until i tell me when the bomb hits.. 

i didn't mean to be born to be a leading example, 
of a conceited and scorn deity, defeated and cancelled, 
then thrown into a new order, ignoring the courses, 
of course its all a lie because im an infant, 
with my perception shifted.. 

we ain't more brainless than bayless, 
no we ain't writing a novel, 
there's not a bit of silence until were dividing the hallways, 
not an ill-mannered mannerism that's mainly mistook, 
for being obnoxiously dishonest while giving off these awful looks, 
im giving my wallet to crooks because it's always empty, 
then laughing so viciously evil when people try to tempt me, 
with a crew that'll never get me and fanbase that never changes, 
drawing/arranging still-frames of us, because we're slow to make it. 
.. now fake it, because it's the time in which we're joking, 
you're stuck here to be a witness to my new prescription unfolding. 

a resolution growing mold and close to game over, 
a cold and sober undertaking of a twelfth-grade folder.. 
.. a collection of the methods that your head had guessed, 
then tried to forget, while i get jealous of some overzealous health risks, 
we dealt this, yet none of our brethren ever felt this, 
.. and now we're stuck acting idle, 
when asked for a title like its a shelf list.. 

this is what happens when one is walking and seasick, 
and hasn't had an imagination since adolescence, 
these words are weapons of self-destruction, 
we function to form a catalyst out of our functions.. 
it's funny how i criticize and make no money, 
because they've taken it from me.. 
by "they" i mean the confident, handsome, and cunning, 
the patient, overpaid, and stunning, 
by "they" i mean the perpetrators who chase me as i am running. 

i can't control or stop myself from digging my own holes, 
i write a letter, so i'll bet that i'm a threat to my throne, 
another message until i get it and i just go home, 
.. so i can blow that motherfucker up and change my tone. 

because i only moan and grown about my own mysteries, 
when i should be the only recaller of all my history, 
im pissy because im pissed off that i get so pissed at me, 
for daydreaming about my living if i'd dissed the memories, 
of me befriending me, yet never prepared to be defending the 
thought of me caught up in the beliefs of friends and families.. 

im handling the candle, as im blowing at the wick, 
and developing epilepsy as im flipping at the switch, 
.. the sign of the old gets stuck in my throat when im focused, 
a phobia of coughing because the coffins: they'll notice. 
they know that this poem slipped out and i didn't control it 
.. so now i've gotta wait around until the cold hits.



Letter Nineteen - Lord Repetition (2011PastProjectTrack)

Song I am featured in on one of my favorite band's albums. Track 15 of Uncle Outrage - Space Legs

This is Art [ Uncle Outrage Collab ]

out of the womb and into infinity.
out of the womb and into infinity.
out of the womb and into infinity.
out of the womb and into infinity

everybody gotta be the leader of the pack, 
regardless of whether or not they can or can't bust facts,
you know the money is never gonna roll in, if you never relax,
and that flow of yours is never gonna get over.. 

so, focus or "fuck it" is what you'll be singing: you better bring it..
hollywood is never gonna show up on your doorstep, 
just some other demon knocking with a mouth
chock-full of white teeth gleaming and a trunk full of horse heads. 

you get far too nervous to open a door with purpose, 
even with forceps.. getting a grip: it’s a bitch when you're a wreck
but i gotta respect the fake checks that you’re giving to kids
… when they hitting seven or six,
preparing them for invisible-debt and blood pressure blues, 
junk-food interludes, hope to win, expect to lose..
 
interrupted by the picture tube: 
so, picture you pissing off the system as for putting on a cape,
serenade your neighbor as you’re praying for the sake of the state,
.. a fake-news station with a back-up imitation,
from the nation in our basement, but they're playing it safe 
and paying them in pesos. 

but,  if i had it my way.. 
 i'd be on the payroll for the job i hold most dear
.. sitting in the sink in tears, nitpicking my appearance in mirrors 

out of the womb and into infinity.
out of the womb and into infinity.
out of the womb and into infinity.
out of the womb and into infinity.

with brute strength i rip into a loose leaf book of notes, 
and given to me via evil chick with awful code of honor. 
the fodder of father issue, consumer of tissue product,
a model fit influenced by women I’m stalking.

the simple gift to hike for weeks
without the need for residing inside 
a sheltered type of hell and try to sleep.
would feel better, but i can’t, so it’s whatever..
in the means, ill bring into living defensive lies
… that i be saying fuck the fight. 

attempting to get the lids hooked,
representing a criminal mistook,
for an ex-crook.. by his image 
but in scrimmage isn’t getting bit by a fish.
no addition to the list of brass rings
.. that he happened to miss,

and as a last ditch effort:
adding class onto my defense,
i repeat this little mantra calmly:
“ dont admit a bit of flipping script”
at least six times, freeing the demon
from my pits.. easing the tense 
and jittered fit of eyeing an audience.

I’m but a left brain thinker,
… a premeditative anchor
on the quest of any organism..
on a trek to wreck my hanging..
out in oxygen, throbbing hearted
and lost within my reminiscent 
imags of blowing a spot and dropping in..
a pit of leo with pieces of meat tied,
around my throat and limbs, 
with ribs of my own quivering 
beneath a sheet of freckled skin.

I’m heckled by a galley of rogues,
still over challenging notes,
of shouters over dramatically
attacking my soul..

they’re mailing curses to me, 
sailing at the speed of light,
flying through me like a ghost,
I’m unaffected, unaffectionately wrecking..    
 all of the plans, I’m stalling the dance,
pausing the trans.. mission.. 
missed me with the trick 
of sticking to me like a tick..

I’ve the tip of the scissors sitting 
on a searing ho stove top,
till they’re glowing red 
and i proceed to grab you
by the head and neck: you’re not,
gonna make it, baby.. crazy aint it?
the painted picture of me losing it,
removing the itch and ruining the scripts plot. 

Into Infinity (demo) prod: Thomas Stanley

A little rap ditty over a pretty beat courtesy of Jamarco Shaw. [Mandarin Project // [soundcloud.com/jamarcoshaw]
This is the first time we have collaborated and I hope to do more things in thy future: enjoy.

Thread Induced(Prod: J.Shaw)

The Tale Of Mr.Toe Stepper (The Pro Go Getter)

me freestyling into a walkie while playing drum machine while tommy vincent plays random geetar. 

IMPROVPUNKWITHTOM

another whiny rap novel to throw on top of the pile. 

metaesthetic

Me and ya boi Bruce covering an solo-acoustic song that Andrew {Wick-It The Instigator) Owsley wrote.  R o c k  n R o l l.  WESTERN KY BORN FOLK REPRESENT.

Bruce&John Cover: "Sad Songs" by Andrew Owsley

Bruce and I covering dat oldie but goodie "16 Tons" 
Its apparently about working coal mines in the shitty county we were born and raised in.. The song is by Merle Travis apparently, we thought Ernie Ford wrote it but whatever man. 

Music/Mixing: Tyler Bruce
Words: My fat ass.

Bruce&John Cover "16 Tons" by Merle Travis (TN Ernie Ford Rendition)

A recreation of a past song of mine called "ODE2OPIOID" that nobody heard or understood because the words were far too quickly rapped.
so yeah, here is a slowed-down, more ROCKNROLL version of that track with the music/beat provided by Dylan Revelette(@thesickartistic).... Enjoy.

ODE2OPIOID (WINTER REPRISE)

Grimula arent back but here is a lost b-side that was not allowed on YouTube due to yadda yadda youknow what i am saying man

GRIMULA: "Thong Song" Cover

I might be creating a new genre or a new brain cave.
Possibly the greatest song of all time.

(L)ove(S)ong(D)ilemma

i 40 minutes of me with an untuned 5-string acoustic guitar serenading victim on my couch with new/forgotten/unfinished lyrics of songs i have out in the ether of my head/laptop mixed with assorted freeestyles/shredding.

a handful of the songs played are from one of my mystery music groups that has an album debut that has been held off since around 2013-2014 (PATSY REYNOLD AND THE NO RELATIONS ).. those songs were co-written with tyler brown therefore like 1/2 of the lyrics in his audio snippet can be accredited to him.

JOHNBOI ACOUSTIC RAP SERENADE



Sounds spawned from the inner dome of John Bevier: A rap singer/songwriter/beat birther/multi-instrument poker/visualartist/cartooncreator/videomaker/wildlifeenthusiast/graphicimagepresenter/creativemess.. 
 Formerly a victim of Kentucky living, in search of cope and comfort within Tampa as of November2015. On a never ending search for folks to collide creative mind and energy with. Holler at your male. 

Past music endeavors can be found below this sentence, and many other places if you commit to a bit of investigating. 
letternineteen.bandcamp.com
thevariousendeavors.bandcamp.com
grimula.bandcamp.com

Animated short series I  co-created/co-produce/co-star/co-write/etc, " Grimula: True Rap Stories " can be found here [ warning: silly/possibly offensive material involved ]
https://www.youtube.com/user/Grimula666

Other random occurrences of creative spontaneity can be stumbled on via-facebook. Stalk me as I will you. 
https://www.facebook.com/johnnbevier

shoutout2lizards&drummachines. 

JOHNBEVIER

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