"more shots to the head than a kennedy" omg bars

Ab-Soul & Kendrick Lamar - Rapper Shit (unreleased) prod. by Tommy Black

Blicky

Fuck Boi Freestyle

In a realm where chaos and hilarity danced a wild tango, an extraordinary rock band emerged, standing out like a neon peacock in a monochrome flock. They were none other than "Lawn Chair Crisis," an eccentric duo comprised of Lil Nirv and Doge.

Lil Nirv, the guitarist, defied gravity with his hair and flaunted a fashion sense best described as "retro-futuristic space cowboy." A distortion and feedback virtuoso, he fancied his guitar a communicator with extraterrestrial life (or so he claimed). His true name was a tongue-twisting enigma, hence "Lil Nirv," a tribute to his unwavering allegiance to peace signs and heavy riffs.

As the band's drummer, Doge was a puzzle of a pooch with a penchant for pizza that bordered on legendary. His drumming talent was eerily uncanny, his beats resonating with a rhythm that seemed to transcend species. Cloaked in perpetually-sliding sunglasses and a slightly oversized leather jacket, Doge personified "animal instinct" with a bark.

One day, consumed by their wanderlust and a hankering for epic waves, Lawn Chair Crisis embarked on a road trip to California's mythical shores. Armed with outrageous instruments, mismatched socks, and a cooler brimming with an unhealthy supply of pizza and beer, they set forth on a journey bound to unleash chaos.

Their route was a maze of wrong turns, questionable choices, and winding roads, leading them to a crossroads radiating an otherworldly aura. A signpost proclaimed "California or Bust," while below it, an enigmatic arrow pointed downward with the phrase "To the Core."

Without much ado, Lil Nirv and Doge exchanged a knowing look and followed the downward path. As they descended, the air turned sultrier, the landscape grew infernal, and the scent of smoldering brimstone wafted around them.

Shockingly, they found themselves in a rock 'n' roll inferno, where lava pits simmered and demons headbanged to an inaudible rhythm. Amidst trembling ground, the Devil himself emerged from the flames, equipped with an electric guitar and crimson-tinted shades.

"Welcome to the hottest gig, Lawn Chair Crisis!" the Devil exclaimed, a wicked grin stretching across his face. "Your music's diabolical, in the best way!"

His devilish plan was unveiled: they were to play a concert for Hell's forsaken souls. Should their performance rock the underworld's core, an escape ticket awaited. Failure meant an eternity playing for the flames.

With Lil Nirv's strings and Doge's drumming fueled by beer and pizza, Lawn Chair Crisis dove into a song defying musical physics. "Mosh Pit" echoed through Hell, its tumultuous energy threatening to tear reality asunder.

In an unforeseen twist, the ground quaked beneath them. The infernal realm trembled, and the tormented souls danced. Even the Devil sang along, his domain quaking as Lawn Chair Crisis's audacity reverberated through Hell's foundations.

As the last note reverberated, the Devil surrendered, shades askew and horns a little less haughty. "Alright, you glorious lunatics! Your way out's won!"

With a triumphant howl and a thunderous power chord, Lawn Chair Crisis was catapulted from Hell back to sunny California. The underworld quaked, and even demons whispered tales of their chaotic saviors.

Thus, the legend of Lawn Chair Crisis grew, murmured among mortals and demons alike. In a realm where discord reigned, they'd proven that even the quirkiest of tunes could shake Hell's very bedrock.

Mosh Pit

UP (Feat. Plntlrd)

(Shoot to Kill) my initial

I want what I want

Safe With Me

art. @kennethrude

prod. @devitrybeats


That that thang go drop 
drop it from the muckin top 
Oh no don't stop 
oh no might pop 
pop it like a scheme for the rent 
pop it like them bands gettin spent 
drop it for the mufuckin man 
drop it for the mufuckin man
damn girl I'm sayin 

I been numb and 
I been cumin 
I been stuntin  

I been runnin 
up a hundred 
couple hunnids

I been on it 
Damn I want it 
For the moment 

Ain't been thinking 
I been drinking 
I been I been I been 


Way to past ill, on that day walker kill
Blade runnin real, shoot wit silver and steel
Wesley snipe with the film 

photo reel black black 
dark room the track 
clack click wit the tap
that line phone gotta go like a crack 
back to the store only pay cash
 
Back it on up
Go go back it on up  
Trynna to come around and get a buck
i ain't really fucking wit no sluts 
where they at 

respectable bitch with the fattest ass 
Trynna get chose like a candidate 
more shots to the head than a kennedy 


drop drop drop drop
drop it from the muckin top 
drop it like its mufuckin hot
drop that thang don’t stop
Oh no might pop
oh no don’t stop
oh no don’t stop
oh no don’t stop
pop it like a scheme for the rent 
pop it like them bands gettin spent 
drop it for the mufuckin man 
drop it for the mufuckin man
damn girl I'm sayin 

Don't you get to frontin on me
you don't really want it homie 
I might keep a burner on me
you don't really know me homie 
know I got stock 
Stockton I handle the rock 
rock it like Dwayne the rock Johnson 
I'm poppin bboy I might pop if it's locked 

I ain't seen that bitch in a minute 
When I think bout it know she willin 
I ain't really trying then she bring it 
Back back back back 
Back fuck it imma hit 

Imma go mean wit it 
see red visine wit it  
ass so fat I put my team on it 
and she and she know what I mean when I tell that girl drop  

drop drop drop drop 
drop it from the muthafuckin top drop 
drop it like it's mothafuckin hot drop 
drop it on it on the mothafuckin spot drop 
go girl drop it don’t stop 
go and do ya thing don’t stop
go and drop that thang don’t stop
go and drop that thang don’t stop
make that thing drop

DROP (prod. Devitry Beats)

shane bars

Recent comments

plntlrd

Related tracks