seth geko

Mange tes morts

King Barlou

Feu en l'air (feat. Lefa)

J'veux des sous (feat. DA Uzi)

Meurs tout bas (feat. Youssoupha)

Témoin zéro

Lumières Nocturnes 2

Sourire à des démons

BLACK CODE TOME 4

À bientôt

vocals by @ihatemp5k 

production, mixing, mastering, and cover art by me

you got an axe!

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Lyrics:

Maybe today I’m just not feeling it, killing it, better than myself but still milling it, militant, my brain don’t constrain to, I’m on main view, thrilling it, life a roller coaster, no chilling, shit, I don’t even like to get on it, wetter of shorts when I’m a go getter in these sorts, feeling it, nah this ain’t track 5 of Reasonable Doubt, out here it clear, the wack side with the treasonable pout, seasonable shout at those who oppose and cause chaos, no slack, hide ya face before the gore, blood crud, what a waste, they don’t pause for chaos, they cast fast applause for chaos, we is doomed like MF, see this? If I zoomed into it, them deaf ears still don’t listen, to the eyes don’t glisten, myself, my health, I’m feeling it, get weaken, tweaking shit, milling it, that’s why I went to the mental hospital, they shoot at the head, hats fly and leave ya face of dread alone, a tone I set is what I let get to my head, I’m prone to red from what the others bled, my mothers soul ain’t dead, she still believe I heave a said tone that thrown across the globe, I’m cross instead, too cross to toss my known, this shit is blown and FED, chances instead because they stances, they heed to law that is a set up, please get up, they live above it, shit a bed up, they on the top bunk, I made up my mind, I find the slop sunk in to poison plenty, you ain’t gon’ paint strong on my canvas, I ran this, for too long for you Don, the noise been bent free for you to dictate, fuck a ‘tictian click bait, if I struck a bitchin’ nerve, I got more in the kitchen perv’, mental hospital ain’t gon’ take the Anthony out of me, when foul at that mouth, shit can get down south, gas my gall as useful but really they don’t feel me, it foosball, I’m just a game, being played, no doubt it be, must my name die a martyr? I’ll try harder, seeing the slayed has me decayed for my lust, I bust, I soar, ya thought process determine the score, I caught mo’ stress when the heater line enter my mind some more, a bind, a chore, will they really kill me? Still A, through this slew, knew this true to who I be.

Morrey Davidson

Seth Gueko

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