I mess with the sound bro dope keep working

feeling the vibe. smooth. nice beat selection

Sound notting  << i like this part , the best ever ㅋㅋㅋLOL

bro this is such a sick remix fucking straight bars man! 🔥🔥🔥 you should go check out my killshot remix i just did fam 👌

keep writting bro , you got lyrics , this isnt for nothing keep going and never stop #Blessup

Recorded at the Garage Studios in South Shields. Mixed & mastered by Sutherland.

Lyrics -

No respect to those recycling quotes
who pander to people in power that put a price on the soul.
Started from the bottom - minus the ghosts,
hanging posters of dead idols bringing life to my walls.
A bit bitter sitting listening to hollow views,
you follow suit so why the fuck would I follow you?
Can't prove all the things you ain't got the heart to do,
I bet it's hard on you to talk shit but never follow through.
Wishing I could stop the battle with my past demons,
but have to write about them demons to enhance healing.
Wanting some success while my Mam's breathing;
hands reaching to the stars above the glass ceiling.
Can I equate to those I see when the telly's on?
Those one syllable pattern rappers acting like demigods.
Want me & Double P on stage to set it off,
with Lipsmoker hitting decks like it's Checky Watch.

Supporting all the lies, man you have to stop it;
if you fall for everything you stand for nothing.
Let my pen scribble til my hands are throbbing,
always finish what I've started, no plans of stopping (x2).

The Blue fire like Kawah Ijen;
au naturale shrubs smouldering within papaya stems.
Got some gold on my mind like a diadem,
fighting for the scraps of Queen's heads inside the lion's den.
Converting scraps into Michelin Star
and start spending dosh until my spliff's as big as cigars.
My come-up's feeling like a mission to Mars
while stepping into technicolour like the Wizard of Oz.
Wake up at the Witching hour with a gram's scent
as I hotbox the echo chamber then I grab a pen.
All the spirits in a glass spill on draft text
hands get forced to spell it out like a planchette.
I'm jotting for a couple hours then it's back to bed,
my mood dependant on emotion in a manic head.
I guess I haven't found the plan yet,
tryna leave more than indentations where my back rests.

Supporting all the lies, man you have to stop it;
if you fall for everything you stand for nothing.
Let my pen scribble til my hands are throbbing,
always finish what I've started, no plans of stopping (x2).

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