wow... props on the production by the way x

monk

Our Ways

Newquay

Produced by Burial
Lyrics: https://genius.com/Monk-uk-to-the-gallery-lyrics

To The Gallery - CMMONK

Victory Overheat Freestyle

Fantasia

GIRL

Take you & Alice to winter in Paris I own an ocean palace on the golf de la napole perhaps it'll soothe your soul💧🌊🏰🌊💧

Ocean Palace - LORDARON (Prod. BALAM ACAB)💧🌊🏰🌊💧

Algebra w/Leff Jante ≠≜:=∑∑∏φ

Summerhouse

Trippin on 40z Ft. Acid Souljah (Prod. Pray4Jae, Seepy & BasedPlugg)

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.

Victory Overheat Freestyle

MONK

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