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

production: @whatsworse
feature: @dak_kid
artwork: @philosophimage

(dak)
Fuck with the vibe 
but don’t fuck up the vibe 
I am feelin so alive 
Look at all these motherfuckers screaming out my name 
Right when I arrive 
It’s a secret Ima let you inside 
But don’t let me down 
I just be steady racin for the crown 
All of my enemies I be steady taking down
Takin a rake and I’m rakin the ground 
I be really makin waves like radio sounds
There he go now 
I keep my circle tight like marry go rounds 
Parry yo rounds 
I do it all up in my closet but I sound like studio sounds 
Stay true to yo sound 
Ima stay true to the culture you stay in true religion route 

(bars)
Do it for the mufuckin culture 
Thought I told ya 
I could coach ya if you need fuckin lesson 
always moving forward like a pawn 
but I’m the king 
We playing chess so I don’t need to get to checkin 
dak and I tag teaming like it’s tekken 
just a trapper and a felon 
I can’t tote a fucking weapon 
I highly recommend you get to steppin 
He might catch you while you resting 
Ain’t no motherfuckin telling 
T-T-T-Tell me something I don’t know 
Java script stick to the code 
I do not keep any foes 
don’t keep anyone close 
I just keep it remote 
I see right through all your lies 
bitch in a grown mans disguise
To give you a piece of advise 
P-P-P-please just don’t fuck up my vibe

(hook repeated)
fuck with the vibe 
just don't fuck up the vibe

(dak)
Takin it back on the beat 
Look at the way that we winnin 
I gotta ask you then why do you cheat 
I got so many women and we just begginin 
I’m wearin designer you wearin some lenin
I made it a mile n  I know you pretendin 
I’m makin the money I made it a mission 
I’m takin yo honey and makin her listen 
Walk into Gucci with Louis 
Bad bitch she a groupie 
She comin and fuckin with me and my team because she is a hoochie
Sippin Codeine like I’m tunchie 
Eaten them pills like it’s blue cheese 
I’m feelin the vibe like I said I’m alive  and you smokin some crack wit a pookie

(bars)
nice guy telling white lies
white lines like a tan line 
wear tights while I fight crime 
captain save a hoe?
id rather save my time
time is currency currently stacking up my bank account 
turn to see turbulence stirring up while i turn my safe around 
spinning dials like a mufuckin fidget spinner 
spinning rims of salt in Cancun -margaritas eating dinner 
throw a temper tantrum on a tempurpedic 
temptress tap my trousers on a drive thats scenic 
pessimistics seen it smiling at her cleavage  
got Serena Williams trynna join with Venus 
shoot my shot like a field goal (woah)
Don't text back, rick roll (woah)
wouldn't touch her with a flagpole (woah)
hit a new lick, asshole (woah)

JUXTAPOSE ft. Dak Kid (prod. worse)

Christian Dior Denim Flow - Kanye West

JUXTAPOSE ft. Dak Kid (prod. worse)

shane bars

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