The debut single by Swaqbreeze
Produced by GNGRS
Cover art designed by Noah Siegel
Done all in one take
Lyrics:
Got ripped apart I’m worthless but smart 
so stop it, shit, I’m playin’ start
it’s time I set myself apart
and fuck around start breakin’ hearts
I’m makin’ art without a spark
gonna drop that part, or start it over from scratch,
maybe I’ll last but if I don’t fuck that, fuck you back at it, don’t like me backpack it
mask it in a trash can full of ash and blunt wraps
pass it till the casket we laugin’ cuz this is haphazard like blizzard the reaper might visit
I’m a creationist who’s blazin shit and facin’ this with asian lips
A place in this world I am making but not chasing it
I’m fakin it superb but I’m an ace with placin’ words
got stakes in banks these stakes are planks
I’m thankin’ yanks with anchored tanks
this jank place is sure malaise and how about I stay my age
I’d rather fuck than play charades. My aim is crazy say my name
so mace the fakes that make me stay in place
I’m racin for my coup de grace I’d shoot a fool for food to plate
I lose if I’m in second place a super-human, get replaced
my base an independent state with gates so great
like master wayne I’m liftin’ weights to masturbate.
My god is lower case so how I supposed to waste this poker face
a broken vase to outer space I’m smokin’ loud and outspoken now
I’m woken out of loading now forebodin’ towns I disavow
I show you how I’m explodin now like mushroom cloud
so fuck you doubters duck ah-choo excuse me I abuse chartreuse like powder
I’m a foul shmuck drink booze for lunch I’m stuck but still infused with luck
or make me vomit up an honest rap that’s tinted yellow-brown
I’m hardly down I’m charlie brown but still don’t bring your kids around
I’m common like atomic bomb a socket for the closet comment
homage to the promised goddess
I’m flawless like mohammed but still modest like a brock in solace
polish off a lot of options but a problem still is proddin’
so we mobbin coppin’ soda pop to stop our throats from coughin’ off
and stallin’ for menage a trois mirage of awe so blah my flaw
petit burgeois but eat fois gras complete montage offbeat, ta da
an elite monsta that’s deceit voila I excrete squalor my mystique buzz saw
defeat? I guffaw a downbeat stunna in discreet withdrawal
a static prick inelastic dick I’m maskin’ it trojan
My traction sticks from a humour fix I amuse you you approve ha ha
my youth does not excuse my moves? bizzare.

Back at It (prod. GNGRS)

prod. shrinking cities


why not

Got a lot of mockers
ocular gawkers
hocking and shocked when I open up and talk 
always got some metal cleats up in my broken locker,
at a tutankamen mummy speed I’m runnin’ for the oval office
shootin’ down the help I need to summon up some pride
hopin’ I know how to bleed when push comes to blood.
who can I pretend to be when papa comes on knockin’ home
superficial enemies, without him I just cannot cope
I drink another can of coke, compare myself to antelope
prepare to be ashamed of when I figure out I can’t elope.
sandy slopes
my hands in my coat pockets
I can’t stop it
chasin’ after profit
rap wall street
but can’t go accessible
that’ll lose the sentiment
gotta stay finessin
all the wallets that my posse hold
caught a cold
just an excuse not use up all the cards I hold
Gone spooky, or kooky
who’s he to say
lose the meaning if these words aren’t sprayed
truth gleaming me mean muggin’, cray
I don’t need no help, shit I make Jesus pray
my own pontius pilate,
weeds the cross
I don’t want to die
but I need to cough
I cannot survive
livin’ like I do
but artificial time’s gone
nothin left to lose
on a special mission from the one up high
got the fire in my heart, blues brothers in my mind
I’m inspired by a god not the light that he shines

Got a half pack a cigarettes, a full tank of gas
It’s half past eleven, and my body’s in a cast
copyin’ the masters of hip hop and rap
to kill a mockingbird is my suicide pact
Why am I cast as a last resort
ordered all around until I catch the torch
and pass it forth
passive, bored, and masking more
don’t know what the fuck it is that I’m asking for

well fuck I guess it’s time that I just take control
The holes in my plans are just reasons to jump
underestimated, close your eyes a sec, I made it
to unprecedented levels hyperventilatin’
elevatin by celebratin’ gettin’ high,
hell’ll have to wait I’m just pretending to be fine
and trickin’ my mind into elimination
thinking that my words will someday sweep across the nation
abomination, astonishing and hated
only want the fame but won’t proud until I made it
and still can’t say “hey look ma, listen to what I created”
my grandma was a painter, my one true inspiration
when she passed away my whole perspective hit the grave
the only way I can thank her is to shank hip hop
and place it on a platter filled with anger
it’s time I save her


Blues Brothers (prod. Shrinking Cities)

Newports

1/2 of metafiction with Shrinking Cities
check www.soundcloud.com/metafiction
check www.soundcloud.com/shrinkingcities