WelcomeToOblivion. (Prod. GRiMM Doza)

RapGenius. (Prod. Ta-Ku)

Genesis. (Prod. GRiMM Doza)

Recorded At Flushing Dungeon Studios
Mixed & Mastered By Jeremy Torres. 
This Is A Single From My Up And Coming Album "LOST SOUL LP" 
SOUTHSIDE!!!!!

FLA! [Prod. KISSTHECROOK]

Lyrics: 
Posted up on granny’s crib bumping Ready to Die.
The ironic thing was that I was ready to die. 
Ceiling fan is spinning while I lay back and prophecize.
Listening to lyrics of the niggas that I idolize. 
If you want a piece of my pain, just stare into my eyes.
Witness all the dried tears and struggles lurking in disguise.
Momma always said: “you’re royalty son”
So I’ll never hold my tongue until my story is sung.
Amongst the masses, spazzing over all this boom bap shit.
Till I cope with problems I’m seeing straight through my glasses.
Till the dope I’m selling gets ripped up out of the package.
My quotes was getting me through my classes.
Never spooked to face the truth, I don’t know what a mask is.
Burned my fears ashes so I can reach the next chapter.
I manufacture these bars so I can murder rappers.
I preach my pain to ease the strain like a muscle relaxer.

Dream is something that ain’t easy to reach.
Me speaking on my problems doesn’t mean that I’m weak. 
Im exhaling all my pain, but it don’t put me at ease. 
So I’ll keep writing these rhymes until I seek out my peace. (2X)


Y’all wasn’t there when them rats pattered past my feet.
Watched the roaches scatter as I shook them shits up out my sheets.
I couldn’t sleep, life put me at my lowest peak.
With no dedication, no inspiration, no will to speak.
AC was broken, had to thug it out in summer heat. 
Momma working every single day so we could fucking eat.
All I had was a notepad, some pens, and a beat. 
Better check your pockets, this knowledge I’m kicking isn’t cheap.
Riding in the hoopty, my older homies would scoop me.
Lighting doobies, ashing blunts before we pulled up at the movies.
Searching for groovy booties, attempting to get the coochie.
To neglect all of our fucked up pasts, like we was off some roofies.
Avoiding goofies, playing cards I was handed.
Self wealth was reprimanded, commanded by all the damage.
Wrote in compositions to calm my position, I was planning.
Regardless of my wrongs, I was writing out my standards.

Mixed/Mastered By Jeremy Torres.
Another Single Off Of My Up And Coming Album 
"Lost Soul"
Shout Out To @Kilamusic For This Beat!!!
SOUTHSIDE!!!

Pain? [Prod. KiLaMDaPro]

TheGreyArea. (Interlude) [Prod. GELS]

Penny4YourThoughts. [Prod. C-RXCH]

MuddyWaters. (Feat. Jerre & Rapswell) [Prod. GELS]

LostSoul. [Prod. C-RXCH]

EndOfDays (Outro) [Prod. GELS]

DopeShit. [Prod. C-RXCH]

NW209Ter. [Prod. C-RXCH]

LethalInjection. (Feat. Tone Santoku, Jerre, & Tre Eiht Special) [Prod. Tre Eiht Special]

Mixed & Mastered By Jeremy Torres & Stephen Gerbasi.
Produced By KISSTHECROOK.
New Single From The South Florida Native SSTEEJAY.
BE READY FOR WAR!

Lyrics: 

Hook:

Honor My Name. (WHAT!)
Before My Last Breath.
Shells Gonna Rain.
Aiming For Heads. (ROOF!)
Coffins Are Laid.
In Honor Of Death. (2X)


Verse 1: KISSTHECROOK

Mind sharp like a new blade.
Afraid of the gas like a fart with a new babe.
Knee to the face, dent your brain like a two face.
Hang a body up by a two tone shoelace HUH.
Yes bitch I’m back from hiatus.
Don’t give a fuck if you hate us.
I am not here to debate it.
You just address it and state it.
Moving in silence you know we defiant.
We cruise in the night know we do it or die in this bitch, YUH.
We run with the finest shit, YEAH.
That’s why its so hard to find us, SHIT.
Define this shit.
Too many pilots I fly this shit.
Hijack the pack and then smoke up the sac.
I make flames in the cockpit I gotta eject.

Verse 2: Jerré

Guillotine, cutting off throats clean.
Fat Joe leaning, mixing chloroform, codiene.
Sleeping gas to the pits, Angelina Jolie.
Niggas scared like Doki Doki.
In the corner, rope a dopin, roll the smoke then.
Okie Dokie, know it’s potent.
No opponent defeatin’ me, all them 
deceased.
Hold Ya Rosary, Aiko Jhene it’s posed to be.
Crook TJ and Jerré who stole the scene.
Sekiro: Dying Twice, JJ I’m dynamite.
Niggas Is salty and ionized.
I do not idolize you who, 
I can slice thru like Aku.
Scream ya brain out im Bakuman.
Untitled like Voodoo on again.
Blood stains on my blade, gimme the honor grave.

Hook:

Honor My Name. (WHAT!)
Before My Last Breath.
Shells Gonna Rain.
Aiming For Heads. (ROOF!)
Coffins Are Laid.
In Honor Of Death. (2X)

Verse 3: SSTEEJAY

I turn Jon Snows to John Does pronto. 
Never bend or fold, ten toes wherever I go. 
Fuck a top ten, leave your top 5, 5-0’d.
Let it sink in to your skin, Vitiligo.
Thump in the trunk, riding on my Trick shit.
Slick Talk make you limp walk so don’t get hit.
Art of Storytelling on point, Slick Rick pen.
Bitch I came to kill for the thrill like Craig Xen. 
Mastermind, no Renzel. 
Came from the ZUU, call up Denzel.
Florida Boy like I’m Lil Pou, niggas minuscule cuz I pen well.
Press em with the Heat, no D-Wade.
Blade to they back in all black like Hiei.
Reel in the dough with the flows, Amine.
Turning my misery into some Green Days.
Bout my business, I’m a thorough nigga.
Catch some stitches from the barrel nigga.
Al Pacino in the El Camino and we packing heat for Deniro nigga.

HONOR DEATH (Feat. KISSTHECROOK & Jerré)

DEMISE (Feat. KISSTHECROOK)
(PROD. KISSTHECROOK)


VERSE 1: KISSTHECROOK

Wrist blade gettin' rust.
Switch blade gettin' blood.
I ain't on that lyric shit.
For now I'm on my ignant shit.
I'm just here for my demise.
I don't dream when, close my eyes, still I rise.
Like the phoenix with a foot long penis.
Stick it in the fuckin' bitch with no regard for future life.
Do it raw, do it live.
Move, do it slyly.
Ridin' like I'm Kylie.
Pull up in the cooper, like a hooper
Do it silent.


VERSE 2: SSTEEJAY

Call me Danny Glover yuh, my penmanship’s a lethal weapon.
I’m the fucking topic (top pick), I’m the one you’ll never cease to mention.
Ease the pressure, you ain’t got no options but to peep the method. 
Soul decrepit, y’all don’t pose a threat, and all my inner demons bought to leak their presence. 
Rock out like I’m sabbath, murder’s a habit I happen to practice.
Give me the pen and the pad and I’ll leave your whole body so stinky,
no cat piss.
Don’t look at me goofy, the young lord running with goonies, like Sean Astin.
Don’t claim that you knew me, don’t say my name loosely or shit’ll get drastic.



VERSE 3: KISSTHECROOK

We behind the line, 3 points taking lives.
Me and chief in the south, keep Teej out ya mouth.
Take ya shot and make it count, bitch I pull up with the count.
By my count its nine, by your count its mine, aimin' at ya mind.
Slayin' every kind, man I did the crime.
Man I did the time, man I paid the fine
When it's time to hide.
Know I keep it super motherfucking simple every time.
Bitch hit my line, copy like a mime.
Ayy
Get the fuck out my face bitch.
If I wanna get it ducked then I would I come and bang it thick.
You always braggin' bout it, why you keep it tucked.
If you was really about the usin' it then I would see it buck.
I mean,
I mean I've seen bitches get the shakes when they be talkin' go alone.
Like how you run up with the five pussies even fully grown.
See pedo with libido, they hold hands like a pre tho.
See you walk my blocks, but you are not comin' to me tho?
Man I'm sick of watchin' fuckas chip like I be eating the Dorito.
Keep my chiefs out yo face.
I make you pussies faneto.



VERSE 4: SSTEEJAY

Trapped in rapping, not wrapped in trapping.
Yet another casket, no more being passive.
Running in motion or living backwards.
Leave your body broken if you get to chatting.
Enough of the bragging, turning all my pain to passion.
You ain’t support me before I was snapping, quit these narratives you niggas is acting. 
(UH HUH, YUH)
Out the mud without guns and drugs.
With no ounce of love running through my blood. 
If you want me dead, better pull the plug.
Throw up your set if you feeling tough.
Mark of the beast, man fuck all your peace. 
Feeble rappers taking part in my feast. 
Freak off the leash will leave you deceased.
And left in the dust, no time for the weak.
Me & Crook gone make you meet your demise.
Double take and you gone bleed from your eyes.
Warlord that’ll reap a surprise. 
Above the law, I’m paralegal with rhymes.
Life is bitter but death is sweet. 
Deadly cycles that’s gone keep repeating.
Catch you lacking, put yo ass to sleep. 
They won’t stop until your blood is leaking. 
Niggas always praying on the weak. 
They’ll reap what they sow when they meet the reaper. 
They won’t ever put their mind at ease. 
It’s because they haunted by they demons.
On the block circling cops, ready for they demise.
Screams resonate through the night so I can’t close my eyes.

DEMISE (Feat. KISSTHECROOK)

LAB RAT (Prod. KISSTHECROOK)

HOOK:

Bust in the game, where the cash at?! (UH)
Who gone come test a lab rat?! (YUH)
Leave you diminished, send you where the pit is.
I’ll put the blade where your back at! (2X)

VERSE 1:

A lab rat with a bad past but I’m past that.
Class act but, I was one that they laughed at.
Shut up with your trash raps, you ain’t even abstract.
Funny thing is I’m the one that got the last laugh.
Knocking doors, down asking where the cash at nigga.
Dummy, where your stash at nigga.
Hitting harder than spiked bats.
When I write raps, you don’t like that? 
Then lay your body where the trash at nigga.
Paid y’all attention, ain’t peep what it cost me.
But my intuition never left me rocky.
Don’t fuck with the vision, well come and try to stop me.
I cut like incisions, ripping through your posse. 
Pain and passion in my DNA.
I’m setting shit off, no BDK.
Ain’t gang related but I be with gang.
They said we ain’t gone make it, you'll see one day. 

HOOK:

Bust in the game, where the cash at? (UH)
Who wanna come test the lab rat? (UH)
Leave you diminished, send you where the pit is.
I’ll put the blade where your back at! (2X)

VERSE 2:

Disguising my presence, misguided discretion, I might need a weapon to please my pride.

Fighting depression, despising the questions inside of my head, is it peace or lies?
Psyche forsaken with false validation, and no revelation could ease my mind.
I might need a minute to write down to my sinning, this pen and paper never leave my side. 
Heart of a saint with the mind of the reaper.
I’m stark when I aim, I’m supplying the ether.
I starved for this plate, and I’ll die for my people. 
You not on our rank, don’t try to defeat us. 
Blood from my veins to blood on my blade. 
Staining the game with the bane of my rage.
Love was a drug, a fix that I craved.
Was drug through the mud from bricks I laid.

HOOK:

Bust in the game, where the cash at? (UH)
Who wanna come test the lab rat? (UH)
Leave you diminished, send you where the pit is.
I’ll put the blade where your back at! (2X)

LAB RAT

S.S.S (SOUTHSIDESMOKE) (Prod. Rapswell)

VERSE 1:

This Riga-mortis leave you stiff in the morgue.
It ain’t no biggie for my mafia to kick in the door.
Equipped with the sword, tactics are efficient for war.
I’m Nostradamus kicking knowledge, yeah, my vision is pure.
Shit, T gone terrorize the residents, no Nemesis.
From the southside, the 305 my residence.
Think you higher than me? I’m not sure bout what your leverage is. 
Mad villiain like Eddie Brock, penmanship venomous. 
Ain’t with the back and forth, ain’t practicing for Wimbledon.
I’m off the Ritalin, a mad man that intend to sin.
RedruM is on my mind, Jack Nicholson. 
Stay ten toes, Don’t give dap to you fickle men. 
I’ll kill ya kin and dump their bodies in the River Styx.
You taking shots, well I’m down to get ya liver hit.
Bars is dope and they equivalent to flipping bricks.
I blow minds with cold rhymes that you gone reminisce.

HOOK:

I’m ten toes to the ground, hear it in my quotes.
Questioning my words? Catch a razor blade to ya throat.
I’m Will Griffin with the lines, ain’t no fucking joke.
Just face it nigga, you ain’t ready for the fucking smoke. 


VERSE 2:

I’ll pull up with a chainsaw, be apart of my massacre.
Packing some big pun sized raps, inside the Acura.
Banging this metal all cross your head like Metallica.
Catch bodies with vernacular, you rap niggas amateur.
Clock you in your chest for acting Hollywood, Flava Flav.
Miami DADE Renegade never been afraid.
Know my story huh? Well I’m all ears: HULK HOGAN. 
I’m used to being home alone, that’s Macaulay Culkin.
My thoughts provoking, knocking off my sense of inner focus. 
I was hopeless, shedding tears cuz I was broken.
Now my spirit is my weapon, gunning demons down like Urameshi. 
Don’t test me man, droppin egos (eagles) like I popped the dezzy. 
Before New England had the chance to stop Al Jeffrey.
Now I’m steady kicking rhymes like my name is Messi.
Sickening rhythm, let it hit em like I’m Rakim. 
Dropping gems so my money stretch like Dhalsim. 



Southside Smoke Nigga!
Southside Smoke Nigga!

SOUTH SIDE SMOKE (S.S.S)

FLORIDA BOY (Prod. KISSTHECROOK) 

HOOK:

Bitch, I’m a Florida Boy, Florida Boy, Florida Boy, Florida Boy.
Live under the sun but die by the gun, you don’t got no choice but to run.
I’m a Florida Boy, Florida Boy, Florida Boy, Florida Boy.
Itch for redemption, content with my sinning, this the beginning of my end.


VERSE 1: 

Flooding the streets with the dope, Ronald Reagan.
Boy, I’m bout my payment, never mock my statements. 
Plot for acres, when I blow, don’t flock for favors.
Aura gold cause my momma made me.
Pockets aching cause the stock is vacant.
But still count my blessings, never stopped my prayers. 
Killing rappers, asalamalakim.
Niggas ain’t a factor when I stomp the pavement. 
I’m never breaking the code.
Materials don’t match the weight of my soul.
Set my goals and then I pave it in stone.
Meditate on my mistakes and then grow.
Marathons round my city like Nipsey.
Victory Lap over tracks till I get it.
Health over wealth, teachings of Sebi.
I’m nitty gritty, got no time for the pity.


HOOK: 

Bitch, I’m a Florida Boy, Florida Boy, Florida Boy, Florida Boy.
Live under the sun but die by the gun, you don’t got no choice but to run.
I’m a Florida Boy, Florida Boy, Florida Boy, Florida Boy.
Itch for redemption, content with my sinning, this the beginning of my end.


VERSE 2: 

No name cobain taking off ya gold chain.
South side niggas down to ride, ain’t no game.
Bust glocks, picking up the tops of ya whole gang.
Puffing and selling that gas, propane.
Everybody wanna rap, everybody wanna trap.
Shut the fuck up and just leave it to niggas that seen the real picture and not on Twitter typing shit up in caps.
Leave you Smokey, Chris Tucker on Friday.
Phonies ain’t picking off my plate.
Niggas tryna block my blessings, Vlade.
Never folding cuz my presence on Andre.
Pen and pad dead all your pitty raps.
Move like Meek, dreamchasing where the milly’s at.
I’m too Litty, tryna take the city back. 
Dripped in Black, I’m Will Smith with the mini gat.

FLORIDA BOY

EMAIL ME FOR BUSINESS HERE: teejxytheabstract@gmail.com

Recording Artist From The Dirty South.
South Florida Native With Articulate Flows, Meaningful Lyrics, And Braggadocious Rhymes.

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