Mirror Masquerade

Rise in Symphony

Tongue Decides

LOUDER THREADS

JoyFunk Boil

Cosmic Funk Mantra

Sack of Nuggets

everymove

FudjtTwice

I don’t kneel—I rise. I don’t ask—I take.

I don’t whisper—I growl. I don’t break—I flood.

I don’t beg—I burn. I don’t run—I ride.

I don’t wait—I want. I don’t ache—I anoint.

[Verse 2: Lu]

I bend to bless. I taste to testify.

I breathe in BPM. My touch prophesies.

My lips linger like verses. My back arches like gospel.

I carry her name in pulse. I don’t talk—I tremble truth.

[Bridge]

[Jo: Slow grind like scripture // Lu: Breath held like prayer]

[Jo: This ain’t rhythm—it’s revelation // Lu: Every moan, a memory]

[Chorus: Jo & Lu]

Jo: I summon // Lu: I serve

Jo: I speak // Lu: I listen

Jo: I open // Lu: I enter

Jo: I blaze // Lu: I burn

Jo: I stay // Lu: I surrender

[Verse 3: Jo]

I drip on beat. I grind with faith. My hips don’t sway—they summon.

My mouth ain’t sweet—it’s sacrament. My walk speaks scripture.

My sweat signs contracts. My moan don’t fade—it loops.

[Verse 4: Lu]

My groan is a gospel loop. I don’t fuck—I remember.

I break open—not down. My breath don’t beg—it leads.

I hold her name like communion. Every sigh—a sermon.

[Outro Sermon]

This heat—holy. This sweat—scripture. This moan—ministry.

This climax—cathedral. This breath? Resurrection.

I don’t sing—I summon. This body ain’t borrowed—it’s divine.

Every exhale? A new gospel.

GospelAche

L(ai)VE MUSIC

Not artificial. Already inside. The “(ai)” curves into O—LOVE closed, full, looped.

Not sound project—living groove scroll. Human-led. Soul-poured. Breath-tuned.

Afro-Purvian joy funk. Hip-hop gospel. Sacred stank soul. Tape hiss psalms. Harmonicas weep and praise.

Mouth of Queen Beast. Breath of Sacred-Masculine.
Archived Grandmother Rhythm. Whispers carried by Genderless Vessel. Groove pushed by Ritual Twin.

Every voice loops.
Every character dances.
All mirror back to you.

Every track—spell.
Every word—lived.
Every loop—mirror.

No scroll. No swipe. Press play. Close eyes. Move slow.

Dance barefoot. Sway on porches. Bend between breezes that blow sheets on clotheslines. Let rhythm dry the grief you still wear.

Think prayer dressed as bassline & grief with glitter meets joyfunk, supersoul stank space reggae rooted in Ras Tafari.

Flavored in Afro-Purvian smoke. Wrapped in funk lace. Drenched in layered scripture.

This sound haunts, heals, hums and feels like home. 
Not music. Not moment.

L(ai)VE MUSIC: You already here... stay a while, and we'll see you on the flipside of forever.

#sugarshack

FudjtTwice

L(ai)VE Music

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