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

art. worse

I ain't the same as then nor tomorrow, different man always coming thru errreyday 
Now they talking like I changed up I just pulled the pennies out the roll,  Lincoln Ima roll away 
Remember me and after gunshot, my life will be a movie, scared of after the film stop 
Bars put all these other rappers up in a headlocks, lyrical glock pop penetrate and Ya heart stop 
I ain't use to be a killer now my haters dead , far as my mind goes all I know is I'm seeing red 
My optics dilated my cock is, harder then ever came to fuck the game your bitch or whatever 
I'm clever I'm saying, weather I cause causing the reign, once i reign on my throne from then ain't remaining the same 
evolutionary track is what I've been getting at, 
Darwin hoping out the grave cause I know that he feeling that 
An old hoes callin asking can they get feelings back, 
No mercy, like is my heart even in tact 
White on white to contrast that my soul is black, 
Sign a contract gaurentein all  I state is facts, 
Just know I used to be too passive and complacent, now my  , name and the money and respect are all adjacent 
Thought the future would be dark so I was afraid to face but it's lookin hella bright see the lazor with the Lasic 

(Ryan's part- I don't have his lyrics and this song is really old since I'm doing this years later) 

The fam ain't treating me like I'm the same, I guess that's how I know I changed 
Saying you ain't smile you used to, fuck bars I just want the old Shane 
well the boy dead and gone, got ice in my veins, leave my bleading heart on the song. 
Emotionally distant, tried the open thing once but they didn't wan an listen. 
Caught up in they own agenda, and it don't help I don't sugar coat or Splenda 
Tell Ya how it is even if I burn a bridge, 
Talking honesty when you get then them feelins switch
I ont fuck with none that, nah I iont fuck with none of that. 
I'm post up and be the asshole when ya ass wanna come running back 
Now I ain't saying that I'm perfect, but I am phenomenal at doing me. 
I ain't never love these hoes, cause I ain't gon let a woman ruin me. 
Seen it happen to the best, man. 
Seen a bride months later fuck the best man 
All I'm sayin wear a vest they shootin at Ya fuckin chest 
And the target get bigger when you can cop a gold neck a lace

Used To (feat. Ryan.)

I want what I want

Safe With Me

Christian Dior Denim Flow - Kanye West

Used To (feat. Ryan.)

shane bars

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