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

artwork by philosophimage 

fuck is you saying aint talking to me
speak up lil boy you just talking to weak
i run my city marathon in these streets
win it like drake but out rap you like meek
insultin fast but not battle rap
they defensive when i don’t attack
I’m paper chasing just give me cash
i fucked ya hoe took and then took a cat nap
rap pussy wage thats a solid day
collecting n chillin thats holiday pay
genius sex symbol thats why they want meh
they throw me their hearts like its valentines day
holiday party got one for each box
cross panty lines like the fall equinox
dick can inspire a fuckin ted talk
accomplish it all do whatever you want

not stunted, stunt jumpin now
not stunted, stunt jumpin now
not stunted, stunt jumpin now
jumpin we stuntin not stunted we stuntin now 

take me places I've never been,
no LSD, ain't no medicine.
take me to places one only could dream,
no Freddy Crouger,
you know what I mean.
I'm needing change,
like a bum in the streets.
I need it now,
that's my money you see.
talking time,
it ain't nothing to me.
Talk isn't cheap,
But I'll fuck you for free.
Dressin so fresh yeah I'm stylin now,
Feelin so high like a pilot now.
Move like a G, keep a silent mouth,
King of the jungle, it's lion now.
When you hearing my voice,
Man I hope that you're vibing out,
I practice my craft,
So ain't no need for no trying out.
Been At got hype and I don't think it's dying down,
Supposed to be singing,
But Bars got me rappin now.

not stunted, stunt jumpin now
not stunted, stunt jumpin now
not stunted, stunt jumpin now
jumpin we stuntin not stunted we stuntin now 

you lookin tired, you need to retire
'fore i fire that click
id cut that bitch off, id cut that bitch off
but too close to my dick
i travel in waves, i travel in waves
like a fuckin ripstick
just like a skatepark at midnight, 
you are not lit

not stunted, stunt jumpin now
not stunted, stunt jumpin now
not stunted, stunt jumpin now
jumpin we stuntin not stunted we stuntin now 

jumpin (feat. Ryan.)

Christian Dior Denim Flow - Kanye West

jumpin (feat. Ryan.)

shane bars

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