I love the way you flow. My friends would enjoy rhyming with you :)

shouts to shru and graflab.
recorded, mixed and mastered by musicli @ old bill studios. 
artwork by HUEDAGOD.
@shrushru
@iammusicli
@graflab
@sloppycereal

(looms.)

Yet again forgetting who I’m meant to be. 
Blame the evergreen presented as the remedy. 
On the 7th day he would always set the scene. 
Getting waved till the 7 seas came a calling.

He waits to meet the mariner upon a thousand rocks. 
Look him in the eye and ignore the albatross.
Presence deafening as the sounds of god.  
The whispers and murmurs break waves and shatter docks. 

Sending shocks through the planet; cracking at the granite.
The multi-story plazas where visits are a habit. 
It swallowed every juice bar and Hollister shop...
Leaving the temple burnt down like Solomon’s was. 

Said before how he’s walking at the deep end. 
Ironic how he’s far from only getting his feet wet.
He wept till the heavens ripped. Time to reminisce 
On the emptiness. His nemesis and so... 

(hook)

Choose to ignore the regrets in hindsight.
Oh how the time flies. X2
People spend their lives tryna clip its wings. X2

(shru)

The dragon is teething. Dragging and heaving. 
Adam and eve caught under blankets and screaming.
Adamant breathing as he planted the seed...
Laughing as the snake falls far from the tree.

What we'd sell, fell trees, burn heaven, freeze hell. 
To turn lights low and be held where she dwells. 
These tales I did not receive often from the doctor reads...
Conquer dreams without the help of bongs of weed. 

To nullify the stubborn mind as i'm off to sleep
or wheeze cough and sneeze for three sodding weeks. 
Stay where the trap plays. The blade in the ashtray.
Remain unscathed the numb age where we lack faith. 

Bars are tended. Pills after breakfast. 
Feel half as pregnant just chill nah forget it. 
These days feeling like a real Armageddon.
I guess the rebels die when they feel fathers presence. 

(hook)


as it used to be ft. shru ///  graflab

shouts to nine.two.
recording, mixing and mastering by Musicli @ Old Bill Studios.
artwork by HUEDAGOD.

@nine-two
@iammusicli
@sloppycereal

Gazing at the present in the past. 
Wonder if forever could ever last. It’s getting dark. 
Floating home n the street lights are flickering. 
Head full of bars and a frame slowly withering. 
Walk light feet tickling the bitumen
The sinners sitting covered in his cynicism shivering. 
Hence the heated discussions to warm his hands again. 
Frost bites the fingers still it’s easier to grab the pen
Than it is get up off his lard arse.  
To stand up and standoff with a hard stance. 
Half-hearted efforts; credence the clever ruse. 
If you choose not to listen you’d never know that you never knew. 

I wrote this for you x2
Don’t you know I wrote this for you?
I guess not. 

Still the ink dries quicker than he jots it down. 
Boulders on his shoulder still he’s colder when they’re not around. 
Forgotten grounds are where the memories are left… better blame the botanist 
For the way makes them hostages, and this rotting esophagus.
Clocking the obvious but what time is it? 
Now he’s got a mic to grip he’s silencing the sirens n the like that tried to stifle him. 
Fruits of his labor ripening; eyes widen at the sight of it still. 
Back on track like rehabilitation. 
Still a heathen in the making 
Dreams of demons in the basement again. 
Grotesque figures, bodies all contorted. 
Swam inside my thoughts till im forced to wanna forfeit. 

4feit /// nine.two

http://bit.ly/2iVBUIY

shouts to m a n n y .
mixed and mastered by musicli @ old bill studios. 
artwork by HUEDAGOD.
@mannypeace
@iammusicli
@sloppycereal

He be lifted on his ones again. 
Love the lack of light; an appetite for when the sun descends. 
Flash back to swearing he’d never be one of them. 
If you hate the now by default do you love the end?
 
It's fucked up that dumb luck got him this far. 
Cold solders quick march living to be discharged. 
Kids laughed all bathing in their naivety. 
Save face and raise the front that few have seen beneath. 

Philosophize in private; let the pastor preach
looms. up on a m a n n y beat. That’s a banger guaranteed.
Manic dreams. Fallacies and catastrophes
Hack the seams of reality. Grab the Haberdashery.

"Damn it he’s gotta hiding inside the higher plain?"
Lack of friendly memories. It’s time to let the mind erase. 
Like he ever could command it. Heart’s the darkest. 
She laughed n ate it regardless without the garnish. 

Starving artist. Need to be eating his words
Cos they equate to the pay that he be seeking in verse. 
See that’s an argument he never willing to instigate. 
But push comes to shove and scraps occupy the dinner plate. 

Sick of love... Sick of trust... Sick of fate.  
Sick of time - he ain’t itching to grip a Zimmer frame.
Searching for nirvana... nah nevermind. 
Down n out getting high. Clown about with pennywise.

p e n n y w i s e /// m a n n y . (video: http://bit.ly/2iVBUIY)

http://bit.ly/2iVA6Qm
http://bit.ly/2iVA6Qm
http://bit.ly/2iVA6Qm
http://bit.ly/2iVA6Qm

shouts to trngrsk.
recorded, mixed and mastered by musicli @ Old Bill Studios.
artwork by HUEDAGOD.
@trngrsk
@iammusicli
@sloppycereal

Blacking out from white light. All is grey in hindsight.
Colours of the zeitgeist –pen and pad defines time.
Looms in the loops thinking maybe he might write.
‘Instead of righting wrongs; the mic is on in the limelight’.
Wrapped in rays. Blankest face at the soirée.
Eyes lit alone penning everything he can’t say.
The reflection granted entry to the furnace. 
Saw the token bones in a broken home – unfurnished.
Overdosed on sober tones… and in earnest
I been working. At least I’m feeling like it anyways.
Toys out the pram. Voices echoing; ‘for heaven’s sake.’
Featherweight benevolent weapon setting to detonate.  
n wreck the place with sarcasm and the tainted wit
He paints on his alias quick. The same as this. 
Paced it now the jaded kid spits pink pigments.
Tongue tied. Now we know why they told him to shrink figments.

shrink /// trngrsk (video: http://bit.ly/2iVA6Qm)

fantompower on beat.
recorded, mixed and mastered by musicli @ Old Bill Studios.
artwork by HUE.

@fantompower
@iammusicli
@sloppycereal

gritting teeth. the sinner sleeps in novocaine.
pigment leaks, hidden cheeks from the focused flames.
frozen frame in her knowing gaze
to most, I’ve been closed off since the open day. 

too busy whipping dreams up for din dins.
housemates pissy he never clean up the kitchen. 
ditch the dishes to switch for swishes. 
courting on the court he be spitting to ya mrs. 

red handed - stigmata on the lords day 
lumber home tail dragging on the walkway. 
he only ever ate the gourmet in poor taste. 
now he gnaws on the corpse till the jaw aches. 

the old me. sold sleep from the dealer. 
cold feet, the soul weeps. need a healer.
i can be the feature... she can be the star for sure. 
in her golden fleece, it’s me her and the argonauts.

i'll be jason (a song for she) /// fantompower

mar.

nine.two on the beats.
artwork by HUE.
recorded, mixed and mastered by musicli @ old bill studios.

@ninetwobeats
@sloppycereal
@iammusicli

let the smoke dance pirouette in suns. 
he been a mess, given cess sitting kept in lungs. 
while the sinner wept and dribbled debt upon a page of a4
solemn days and shade like what is it we’re made for? 

remember when we’d meet and keep it illicit. 
speaking logistics, her day and keeping me in it. 
needed to live it just to get to see the chosen path for he 
who bleeds the broken artistry, haemoglobin harmonies 

and hypertension tetra chords drop out the vocal. 
float like the boats out in Constantinople. 
not nows for know-alls. time speaks of honesty
In tones dry of modesty. throttling the prodigies

clobbering the righteous. never understood
so they colonized the island with weapons for woods. 
Embedded in the bush he found hope in himself 
and wrote notes soaked in oaths I hope nobody tells.

walks /// nine.two

b side from the official single release of february again - available on all streaming services. 

prod. by dylan.porter.
recorded, mixed and mastered by Musicli at old bill studios.
artwork by HUE.

@dylanportermusic
@iammusicli
@sloppycereal

yeah he might have been a minute. 
been at high seas with the spirits.
never been about the now
for that moment he was living in it. 

through ice and the snow, 
deciphering codes by the tide in a boat
he’d rhyme to the chime of the coast in the night 
in the night shining like lights residing in his bones.

and it flickers with the highs and the lows.
mimicking the sighs and the moans. 
now he fidgeting inside of these clothes. 
black suit, white shirt, leather shoes 
hit the promenade, drumming out depressive grooves. 

somehow coping with change, 
broken away from the fam then he awoke at the wake. 
nobody prayed like he did. he would mean it. 
we only beseeched it and how he’s bout to meet with,

now he bout to meet with, everything he claimed was true. 
what if everything he claimed was true? 
this a game that we play where we’re made to lose
maybe we create the truth. x2
now higher than the planes you used to fly. 
grandfather i’ve only been retaining the laughs. 
it’s not the same with it only replaying in hearts. 

you echo through the cold corridors of this hot head. 
the old cobbled shores and their soft beds. 
my simple mind and its complex. 
the deep end that lost depth. 

these are the words that arrived, too late for crowd and too early for I. 
if anything.
if anything, I hope you see only this
and not the woes in which I once chose to sit. 

now you move how the angels move
and I prove to remain removed. 
but I know when I see the sun after it rains , it’s you. 
I hope everything you claimed was true. 

/languid looms.

thomson /// dylan.porter

mar out soon.

@ninetwobeats on the cut 
@sloppycereal on the artwork 
mixed and mastered by @nohidea
recorded at @estrestr's yard

black sea /// nine.two

recipe - https://bit.ly/2ULi2Hr

out of innards
www.insidetheshed.net
@ninetwobeats

saw the truth lying in the lies. fire finding ice. 
residing in the eyes of the two who grew too tied like a noose do.
it moved you. sumn like the voodoo 
the yute threw a tantrum, ranting to the dry wall. 
the man stands now hands hanging from arrival. 
deny the denial. tear for a tear. 
oh he had a sick fear of the fear now he here but uhh…
play it back now he gone again. 
lace a pack now we on the mend. 
she on the bed. he was on the edge 
we were lopping heads seeing orange reds.  
still got her specks on the ledge.
and her perfume; donning his golden fleece. 
shit’s looking more bronze in these colder scenes. 
holding heat in the form of hearts. 
it’s all a dance - the performance of the past
in the present. ever together and apart 
met the severance again he meant tether n the mast   
never them two? the most malevolent of arts
with the devil in the palm, calm. he like mwah

liver /// nine.two (recipe @ https://bit.ly/2ULi2Hr)

look here - bit.ly/2UT5m1e
and here - www.insidetheshed.net

out of innards.
produced by @ajmwsounds

black river. 
same shade as the ticker.
ache a day late -  had to give up. 
frame laid to waste; map the mirror. coasting. 
floating 
but still sitting stiffer than his omens. of course. 
the kiddy didn’t listen when she told him that he held the key. 
said that wealth was he…
they’d melt L’s with the held hells their shells would heave. 
dwelled well on the one now there’s worlds between. 
fell as trees with the roots tied. 
and tonight the sun saw their youth through and fruit fried. 
yeah see you soon... too soon but it’s too right 
new you and a new i -  new moon in a new sky. 
new highs in the same low. 
“the grass greener where you ain’t though” 
bark the demons on the way home. 
hard to keep em in at bay bro. 
darkened be the halo. 
he only part the sea to lay slow.

ticker /// AJMW (look here - bit.ly/2UT5m1e)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UbbDJzs2PNQ
@dylantheinfamous
art by @estrestr


but we dying anyways? rest heavy. wide awake lying. high heaven in her hands 
holding broke knuckles bandaged. clasping arms. 
the same palms brand the damage he masked. rapping at the wall 
she said we living art they tryna hang us at the walls
hadn’t managed. hacked the canvas. fontana shit. 
ring cracking at her call. no signal in this parish kid they tapped n all.
small days. no ball games signs prised up off walkways with wall paint. 
woven over houses fit to kick the can in. 
life time kicking back couldn’t kick the habit. 
this shit was handed. 
crooked crooked finger in its point. 
sitting missing joints. dave allen 
quipping. see the victor in the victim no matter who did or didn’t it’s in the inner vision is it not? 
don’t answer that. he saving the fam with the very few who take his hand and don’t shake it.
her stare punctuate the statements that he splaying up and jab at.
the school boy lab rat. mad hat. change places. 
aching hands had made him able to stand gracious. see
a woman had to made him a man

as it used to be ft. shru /// graflab

looms.

Recent comments

jordan.

risaikari

franksssssssansana

franksssssssansana

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