And so it began.  After knocking seven bells of shit out of each other they agreed to sit down with a nice glass of mead and discuss a way of creatively channelling their mutual hatred of the other.  Outside the sun had long since been ordered to bed by her father, a large, bright, rotund figure whose sexy shape filled the frosty skies.  It was the moon ok!  The sun’s dad was the moon!  Got that?  Right.  The chances were uncanny this night.  It wasn’t long before both found they had a mutual interest in music.  Gareth, a guitarist with a band of minstrels from the heights of Durham, and Richard, a vocalist from the murky marshes of Broad Ford came up with a cunning plan that would change one or two people’s lives forever.  Idiotbox was born this night.

Gaz and Rick embarked on a crusade, scouring the land for a lean and handsome crew.  A Serbian traveller, whose skills were legendary, became the first addition to the band.  He kicked, screamed, flailed and moaned but succumbed when the pair offered him an Ali G hat for his troubles.  Off they set again, this time in search of Jesus of Buttershaw.  They had heard dark tales of how The Jesus of Buttershaw blended into the shadows of the Woods of Judy only ever leaving the moist, dank, leech ridden forest to rip the heads off passing virgins and devour the carcasses.  Actually we found him at home playing guitar hero, which was nice.  Spot of luck there methinks.

This was the way it was...  Until one sunny Saturday morning Richard was drawing a bath when Gareth pounced in.  “Jesus and the Serbian have vanished!” he sang.
“Why did you sing that then?” Rick asked.
“Don’t know,” started Gareth, “I didn’t even know I could sing” he finished.  Anyway, so this meant that they must now either go and find our missing friends or find someone else.  They opted to find someone new in case our friends had been taken somewhere evil and they would have to fight dragons and shit to get them back.

The search was futile; all they found were pound shops.  Was this to be the end of Idiotbox?

As the two boys sat silent by a lovely river somewhere lovely, Gareth suddenly piped up, “I know a man who makes a beat with his fists.  If we ask him to join us doing what he does best, I will play the deep guitar!”
“Brilliant,” said Rick, “but don’t you think this might keep happening?”
“Yeah, probably” whispered Gareth forlornly.
“I have a friend who knows a man with a time machine; we could borrow it and cut out loads of bollocks.” Rick suggested.
“Hell yeah!” Gaz shouted in an american (with a small a) accent.
“Erm, we’ll have none of that sort of talk mister” said Rick.
“Sorry” came a dejected reply.  Gareth secretly loved america and all its food and lights and sidewalks and faucets and stuff.  He dare not speak of it though, not to Rick anyway.  If he did, Rick would surely kill his head off.

So off they went with a trumpety trump to find Sir Cliff Richards, the man with the time machine.  They found Sir Cliff a bit worse for wear on Heroin and had to wait three hours for him to come down enough to explain how to use the date clock.  They set the date for January 2009!

How different the world looked on the other side, they thought.  As they wandered around they were horrified to see that Delius had gone, horrified again to see that McRory’s had gone and horrified once more to see that Forster Square had been bombed.  Though they did stumble upon one bit of good news: Rio’s had gone!  They both let out a loud “Hurrah!”  They decided to abandon the full tour and get on with looking for the rest of the band.  Off they ran to the Idiotbox, which rested on a grassy knoll, to meet the new improved band.

As they approached they noticed a solitary figure atop a mound, pounding out a strange beat with its tiny fists.  It was a barf, a little spiky haired barf with long legs and a pointy beard.  “Hello Little Barf,” said Rick.  From that point on the little barf never shut up!  It talked and talked and talked.  They resisted the urge to kill it with a big gun and instead asked it to join them in their quest.  The little fellow agreed but informed them that he was from the land of Hullcity and so might have a slight problem getting across at times and then further pointed out that it was a £30 round trip for future reference.  So that was that.  Now there were three. 

A plan was hatched to find yet another two strings to the bow.  A contest for all the minstrels in the North was to be held at Voltage Castle the following Saturday.  The turnout was astounding; astounding in a bad way that is.  Two people turned up.  Rebecca and Adrian were a Dollar tribute act from the Fair on Brigweatherhouse Green.  Although they were the only two contestants to turn up they were perfect in every way.  Except the getting up in a morning way, they were definitely not the best in that way.  But in every other respect they were perfect.  And that, as they say, was that.  Idiotbox were back...


My name is Stackz Da Ripper. I was born on the lower east side of Manhattan in 1999. I lived there for awhile before moving to Yonkers where I had family. Some of my cousins were also rappers. I would hear them rap and think “Fuck them”, because they bullied me. But over time I became more interested in rap. The lyrics, music, and expression drew me in. I tried to rap and come up with lyrics but it took a long time. After many failed attempts I spit a hot verse at about the age of 8. Rap was the only thing that I could lean on, it was truly mine and it allowed me to express myself. But I was still too young to do much with it and I also had other interests. 
I was fascinated with guns and weapons that I saw on the streets. I remember they gave me a feeling of power in a life where I often felt powerless. So I became fascinated with tools of destruction. I was too young to get a gun, plus niggas knew my family and I was a lil nigga so as an alternative I carried a knife.At this point I was bangin in the streets. There aren’t many real jobs for young black men, so like many others; I took to selling drugs and robbing to survive and to get where I needed to be. My mom use to play Jay Z , Biggie Smalls, and Beanie Sigel. She used to wake up the whole apartment with old school shit like Stephanie Mill and Luther Vandros. If I were to name one person who inspired me to rap more than any other it would be G.Herbo. From the first time I heard him I never stopped listening. He was rapping about the same things me and my cousins had been thru just in a different way and different place. My home and family life has been a struggle. It was hard on my mom and me. My father had another family he lived with and after a while I didn't really care. I saw less and less of him and basically said forget him. I became more independent and found ways to get what I needed by myself. I couldn't rely on my father and didn't lean on my mother because she was struggling herself. We were always moving, from neighborhood to neighborhood and from shelter to shelter. I still always tried to keep a smile on my face though. I knew what it was like to be hungry. And that hunger wasn’t just for food. I was hungry for success, I was hungry for everything. That hunger drove me to try many things in an effort to get out, to rise above. I met this OG named Willie, my bro Fredo he took me to meet him one day. Willie had a passion for music as big as mine and he took me under his wing providing support and guidance. Willie was a huge G Herbo fan also. Willie had mad equipment and computers to mix music, make videos, and basically helped me with everything to get started in the business. We really clicked and work well together. He is the OG and I'm the young gun coming up in the rap world. Willie doesn't let me lean on him too much, instead he guides me to be independent and learn the ropes of the business as he guides me. His musical suggestions help alot, he can hear a beat or hook and tell if it will work or not. OG Willie aka Thom is a very talented musician and singer, he collaborates with me on many of my tracks providing excellent vocals.


Welcome to Bedroom Records!  

We like music, and so do you. Right? Else you wouldn't be here. In this world, there is so much undiscovered, amazing music just waiting for you to find. Problem is; many bedroom producers just sit and let their music collect dust. We want to help them by sharing their music. We also want to help you, you awesome son (or daughter) of a gun, to find the music that defines you as the amazing creature you are. 

 Lean back and enjoy.  
Ps. We love you.

Trap, that is all
Lean, to the top
Hoes, on my cock
Money, counting bucks
Friends, having fun
Bullet, on my gun
Oki!, I´m fucked up
Grand, this is fuckin Owel!

“I’m a modern man. A man for the millenium. Digital and smoke free. A diversified multicultural postmodern deconstructionist, politically, anatomically, and ecologically incorrect. I’ve been uplinked and downloaded, I’ve been inputted and outsourced. I know the upside of downsizing I know the downside of upgrading. I’m a high tech lo-life. A cutting-edge, state-of-the-art, bi-coastal multitasker and I can give you a gigabyte in a nanosecond. I’m new wave but I’m old school and my inner child is outward bound. I’m a hotwired, heatseaking, warmhearted cool customer, voice activated and biodegradable. I interface with my database and my database is in cyberspace, so I’m interactive, I’m hyperactive, and from time to time I’m radioactive. Behind the eight ball, ahead of the curve, riding the wave, dodging the bullet, and pushing the envelope. I’m on point, on task, on message, and off drugs. I got no need for coke and speed. I got no urge to binge and purge. I’m in the moment, on the edge, over the top, but under the radar. A high concept, low profile, medium range ballistic missionary. A streetwise smartbomb. A top-gun bottom feeder. I wear power ties; I tell power lies; I take power naps; I take victory laps. I’m a totally ongoing bigfoot, slamdunk rain maker with a pro-active outreach, a raging workaholic, a working rage-a-holic, out of rehab and in denial. I got a personal trainer, a personal shopper, a personal assistant, and a personal angenda. You can’t shut me up, you can’t dumb me down, cause I’m tireless and I’m wireless. I’m an alpha-male on beta-blockers. I’m a non-believer and an overacheiver, laid-back but fashion foward, up front, down home, low rent, high mantinence, supersize, long lasting, high definition, fast acting, oven ready, and built to last. I’m a hands on, footloose, knee-jerk headcase, prematurely postraumatic, and I have a love child who sends me hate mail. But I’m feeling; I’m caring; I’m healing; I’m sharing; a supportive, bonding, nurturing, primary caregiver. My output is down, but my income is up. I take a short position on the long bond and my revenue stream has its own cash flow. I read junk-mail; I eat junk food; I buy junk bonds; I watch trash sports. I’m gender specific, captial intensive, user friendly, and lactose intolerant. I like rough sex; I like tough love; I use the f-word in my email, and the software on my hard drive is hardcore; no soft porn. I bought a microwave at a minimall; I bought a minivan at a megastore. I eat fast food in the slow lane. I’m toll free, bite size, ready to wear, and I come in all sizes; a fully equipped, factory authorized, hospital tested, clinically proven, scientifically formulated medical miracle. I’ve been pre-washed, pre-cooked, pre-heated, pre-screened, pre-approved, pre-packaged, post-dated, freeze-dried, double wrapped, vacuum packed, and I have an unlimited broadband capacity. I’m a rude dude but I’m the real deal, lean and mean, cocked, locked, and ready to rock; rough, tough, and hard to bluff. I take it slow; I go with the flow; I ride with the tide; I got glide in my stride; driving and moving, sailing and spinning, jiving and grooving, wailing and winning. I don’t snooze, so I don’t lose. I keep the pedal to the metal and the rubber on the road. I party hardy and lunchtime is crunchtime. I’m hanging in, there ain’t no doubt, and I’m hanging tough, over and out.”

"I’m a modern man, a man for the millennium. Digital and smoke-free. A diversified multicultural, postmodern deconstruction that is anatomically and ecologically incorrect. I’ve been uplinked and downloaded, I’ve been inputted and outsourced, I know the upside of downsizing, I know the downside of upgrading. I’m a hightech lowlife. A cutting edge, state of the art, bicoastal multitasker, and I can give you a gigabyte in a nanosecond!

"I’m new wave, but I’m old school, and my inner child is outward bound. I’m a hotwired, heatseeking, warmhearted cool customer, voice-activated and biodegradable. I interface with my database, my database is in cyberspace, so I’m interactive, I’m hyperactive and from time to time I’m radioactive.

"Behind the eight ball, ahead of the curve, ridin' the wave, dodgin' the bullet and pushin' the envelope. I’m on point, on task, on message and off drugs. I’ve got no need for coke and speed. I've got no urge to binge and purge. I’m in the moment, on the edge, over the top and under the radar. A high concept, low profile, medium range ballistic missionary. A streetwise smart bomb. A top gun bottom feeder. I wear power ties, I tell power lies, I take power naps and run victory laps. I’m a totally ongoing big-foot, slam dunk, rainmaker with a proactive outreach. A raging workaholic. A working rageaholic. Out of rehab and in denial!

"I’ve got a personal trainer, a personal shopper, a personal assistant and a personal agenda. You can’t shut me up. You can’t dumb me down because I’m tireless and I’m wireless, I’m an alpha male on beta blockers.

"I’m a believer and an overachiever, laid back but fashion forward. Upfront, downhome, low rent, high maintenance. Supersized, long lasting, high definition, fast acting, oven ready and built to last! I’m a hands-on, footloose, kneejerk head case pretty maturely post-traumatic, and I’ve got a love child that sends me hate mail.

"But I’m feeling, I’m caring, I’m healing, I’m sharing-- a supportive, bonding, nurturing primary caregiver. My output is down, but my income is up. I took a short position on the long bond and my revenue stream has its own cashflow. I read junk mail, I eat junk food, I buy junk bonds and I watch trash sports! I’m gender-specific, capital intensive, user-friendly and lactose intolerant.

"I like tough love. I use the “F” word in my e-mails and the software on my harddrive is hardcore -- no soft porn.

"I bought a microwave at a mini-mall; I bought a minivan at a megastore. I eat fast food in the slow lane. I’m toll-free, bitesized, ready-to-wear and I come in all sizes. A fully equipped, factory authorized, hospital tested, clinically proven, scientifically- formulated medical miracle. I’ve been pre-wash, pre-cooked, pre-heated, pre-screened, pre-approved, pre-packaged, post-dated, freeze-dried, double-wrapped, vacuum-packed and I have an unlimited broadband capacity.

"I’m a rude dude, but I’m the real deal. Lean and mean! Cocked, locked and ready to rock. Rough, tough and hard to bluff. I take it slow, I go with the flow, I ride with the tide. I’ve got glide in my stride. Drivin' and movin', sailin' and spinnin', jivin' and groovin', wailin' and winnin'. I don’t snooze, so I don’t lose. I keep the pedal to the metal and the rubber on the road. I party hearty and lunch time is crunch time. I’m hangin' in, there ain’t no doubt and I’m hangin' tough, over and out!"

I'm a modern man,  A man for the millennium,
Digital and smoke free.  
A diversified multicultural postmodern deconstructionist,
Politically anatomically and ecologically incorrect.
I've been uplinked and downloaded.
I've been inputted and outsourced.
I know the upside of downsizing.
I know the downside of upgrading.
I'm a high tech lowlife.
A cutting edge state-of-the-art bicoastal multitasker,
And I can give you a gigabyte in a nanosecond.
I'm new wave but I'm old school,
And my inner child is outward bound.
I'm a hot wired heat seeking warm hearted cool customer,
Voice activated and biodegradable.
I interface from a database,
And my database is in cyberspace,
So I'm interactive, I'm hyperactive,
And from time-to-time, I'm radioactive.
Behind the eight ball, Ahead of the curve,
Riding the wave, Dodging a bullet,
Pushing the envelope.  I'm on point,
On task, On message, And off drugs.
I got no need for coke and speed,
I got no urge to binge and purge.
I'm in the moment, On the edge,
Over the top, But under the radar.
A high concept, Low profile,
Medium range ballistic missionary.
A street-wise smart bomb.
A top gun bottom feeder.
I wear power ties, I tell power lies,
I take power naps, I run victory laps.
I'm a totally ongoing bigfoot slam dunk rainmaker with a proactive outreach.
A raging workaholic. A working ragaholic.
Out of rehab, And in denial.
I got a personal trainer, A personal shopper,
A personal assistant, And a personal agenda.
You can't shut me up, You can't dumb me down.
'Cause I'm tireless, And I'm wireless.
I'm an alpha male on beta blockers.
I'm a non-believer and an over-achiever.
Laid back but fashion forward.
Up front, Down home,
Low rent, High maintenance.
Super size, Long lasting,
High definition, Fast acting,
Oven ready, And built to last.
I'm a hands on, Foot loose,
Knee jerk, Head case.
Prematurely post traumatic,
And I have a love child who sends me hate mail.
But I'm feeling, I'm caring,
I'm healing, I'm sharing.
A supportive bonding nurturing primary care giver.
My output is down, But my income is up.
I take a short position on the long bond,
And my revenue stream has its own cash flow.
I read junk mail, I eat junk food,
I buy junk bonds, I watch trash sports.
I'm gender specific, Capital intensive,
User friendly, And lactose intolerant.
I like rough sex. I like tough love.
I use the f word in my email,
And the software on my hard drive is hard core, no soft porn.
I bought a microwave at a mini mall.
I bought a mini van in a mega store.
I eat fast food in the slow lane.
I'm toll free, Bite sized,
Ready to wear, And I come in all sizes.
A fully equipped, Factory authorized,
Hospital tested, Clinically proven,
Scientifically formulated medical miracle.
I've been pre-washed, Pre-cooked,
Pre-heated, Pre-screened,
Pre-approved, Pre-packaged,
Post-dated, Freeze-dried,
Double-wrapped, Vacuum-packed,
And I have an unlimited broadband capacity.
I'm a rude dude, But I'm the real deal.
Lean and mean. Cocked, locked and ready to rock.
Rough tough and hard to bluff.
I take it slow. I go with the flow.
I ride with the tide. I got glide in my stride.
Drivin' and movin', Sailin' and spinnin',
Jivin' and groovin', Wailin' and winnin'.
I don't snooze, So I don't lose.
I keep the pedal to the metal,
And the rubber on the road.
I party hearty, And lunch time is crunch time.
I'm hanging in, There ain't no doubt.
And I'm hanging tough,
Over and out.

Any movement any by supports us as you keep more load on the buys and bus you're going to get more growth and more everything basically trying to get here by subtracting the second little biceps the crew wanton give you and really applies to any kind of standing stuff especially <a href="http://whatiselitetest360.com/"> Elite Test 360</a> you know you seek out doing here the standard barbell curl something out flight leans forward saw the not really grieving for their most of all over just a slight lean was going to do is one prevent you from ever cheating and leaning back to the excise and dos you notice using momentum are taking the load away from the biceps but to its going to keep the Lord on the biceps through the entire time through the entire movement so every rep every set your maximizing everything you getting from the string the second little more muscle building secret haste do shoulders so we're going to start off with a very advanced up so please there's a beginners or they're doing bother with this one on this is more for the advance guys are looking to spark some more growth and that's using a false grip when you doing any kind a front lateral raises Silo raises rid %uh machine whatever Cirque I hear demonstrating what a normal group s when he grabbed the dumbbells and waterfall scrupulous by using a full script throw the excise I just talked about and you know what I'll show youth standing side laterals is actually a place more load on his shoulders. as it may seem so I though you know just by moving the farm by doing it yes you put more stress in the muscle and get that much more than office parks more muscle growth got a <a href="http://whatiselitetest360.com/"> Elite Test 360</a> little shoulder see you're going to be today place your shoulders is really doing shoulder from raises you always want to have a slightly in Fort his gun accomplish two things: first thing is going to place more load on the muscle investor you get more growth out over and to not just have mislead me lean forward really want to focus on reaching forward.

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