29. MAWNIN MIST THRU BLUNTED LIPS (RSO Sample Challenge #29) Ft. BIG DADDY KANE

Mark Artchives - Nicotine Lesson (Prod. Cosyboys)

Can’t see how you breathe with that load on your back
Past like a chain and I carry the stack
Ghosts in the closet, they hauntin’ my sleep
You buried the dirt, now it’s mine to keep
Shoulda dropped truth, but you locked it tight
Now it’s late game, and I pay the price
Fire on the wire, steps on the edge
One wrong move and we fall off the ledge

It’s fucked up, it’s hot, I feel it snap
Playin’ with flames, no way back
You don’t even see what I lost
Orbit’s burnin’, countin’ the cost

Door cracked open, I step inside
Naked chaos, nowhere to hide
Storms in your veins, I can feel that hit
Dropped it on me, too late, no script
Breath turn heavy, my chest collapse
How you want me to move with the weight of that past?
Secrets drip slow like a venomous stream
Now I drown in the smoke of your silent scheme

It’s fucked up, it’s hot, I feel it snap
Playin’ with flames, no way back
You don’t even see what I lost
Orbit’s burnin’, countin’ the cost

I’m here, I see, I know the mess
You could’ve warned, you left me stressed
Lies in the dark, I’m the one who bleeds
Trapped in your wreck, but you plant the seeds

It’s fucked up, it’s hot, no escape
Words unsaid now seal my fate
You shoulda spoken, you let it drown
Now I’m buried with your ghosts underground

It’s fucked up (Abstract reload)

Duchess!.

This ain’t cute.
This ain’t style.
It’s predators dressed as fans,
and they been here all the while.

Lolita, they chant, but the truth is sick
Men chase youth, then disguise the trick
It ain’t fashion, it ain’t no art
It’s the hunger of the gaze that tears her apart.

Men write stories with a poison pen
Dress a teenage frame like a grown-up trend
Camera flash turn a child to a muse
But behind every shot, it’s a man who abuse
They say “innocent eyes,” but their thoughts betray
They feed on the fragile, then hide it away
Lyrics on the charts call it playful lust
But it’s predatory fame, in greed we trust
Culture sell young skin as a timeless thrill
But it’s power on display, control at will
Fetishize youth like a crown to chase
While erasing the truth of a stolen face
Lolita is the mask, but the mask ain’t real
It’s desire for control that the men conceal
From film to the ads to the music score
It’s the same old hunger, just dressed once more

Lolita, they chant, but the truth is sick
Men chase youth, then disguise the trick
It ain’t fashion, it ain’t no art
It’s the hunger of the gaze that tears her apart.

Old men write scripts, then they call it love
But the violence hide in the words they shove
Casting couch dressed in designer gloss
But the contracts sign with a silent loss
Every stage built on a fragile lie
That the younger she is, the higher the high
They normalize lust through a pop refrain
But the chorus hide teeth, and the smile is pain
Industry giants make the profit grow
While the girl they exploit never own her show
Streaming hits play while the crowd don’t see
That the lens is a weapon of fantasy
They say “she’s mature,” but she’s just fifteen
And the camera’s the cage where the world is mean
From the screen to the street, it repeats the crime
Fetish dressed as art, it’s the same old line

Lolita, they chant, but the truth is sick
Men chase youth, then disguise the trick
It ain’t fashion, it ain’t no art
It’s the hunger of the gaze that tears her apart.

Call it out loud, no more disguise
Stop the hunger living in their eyes
It ain’t love when the power split
When she’s silenced, and he writes the script
It’s the body they chase, not the soul she own
It’s the myth they made, not the girl alone
Lolita’s a word, but behind it’s fear
A generation scarred by the men who leer
Teach boys young that consent is truth
Not the fetish dream of eternal youth
Hold men to the fire, strip the lie away
Don’t excuse their lust as a harmless play
From the art to the law, let the system fall
No glamor in abuse, just a warning call
If you praise her youth, then you show your crime
Stop hiding behind culture, it’s been time.

Lolita, they chant, but the truth is sick
Men chase youth, then disguise the trick
It ain’t fashion, it ain’t no art
It’s the hunger of the gaze that tears her apart.
Lolita, no crown, just a stolen start
Men build idols, then they tear them apart.

It was never about her…
It was always about you.

Lolita (Conscious Rap reload)

Cut it out… cut it in…
Skin don’t fit, it’s a costume I live in.
Yeah-yeah… yeah-yeah…

See a stranger when I face the glass
Every angle wired up to crash
Skin costume, stitched on tight
Every shadow fightin’ for the right
Switch the face, change the frame
Mirror break, it’s never the same
Stitch me up, tear me down
Holy chaos, ugly sound
Scars align like a barcode scan
Every flaw read out by the hand
In the fracture I find my place
Cutting rhythm, distorted face
Can’t escape what the body shows
So I burn it down, let the fire grow.

I don’t like my body — but I wear it out tonight
Dancin’ in the fracture, burnin’ in the light
Cut to fit, cut to fit, never perfect, never right
Still I twist my shadow till it feels alive

Cut-cut-cut, cut to fit
Break-break-break, never quit
Cut-cut-cut, cut to fit
This body scream but it still commit

Dress the wound, paint the scar
Play the role of who you are
Teeth and hair, skin replaced
Every look a sin embraced
Switch again, no frame to keep
Night too heavy, cut too deep
Patch me raw, sew me tight
Break me wrong, still wear it right
I don’t flex, I confess
Every mirror is a test
Weaponize what they see
Sell the wound, market me
Cut to fit, not to plan
Velvet brand across my hand
I don’t choose, I don’t decide
I just twist until alive.

I don’t like my body — but I use it when I can
Sell it as a weapon, break it with my hands
Cut to fit, cut to fit, never perfect, never planned
Still I wear my nightmare like a velvet brand

Cut-cut-cut, cut to fit
Break-break-break, never quit
Cut-cut-cut, cut to fit
This body scream but it still commit

I’d cut my arms to make them new
I’d pull my waist until it’s true
I’d tear my smile and sew it tight
I’d carve my body into light

Cut it out, cut it in, sharpen the skin
Every flaw amplified from within
Noise in the bones, static in veins
Every step carry infinite pain
Patchwork body, violent art
Every stitch tearin’ me apart
Don’t ask why, I don’t explain
Every scar scream louder than shame
Crowd look close, they clap, they cheer
But they never feel what I feel here
Carved in silence, bent in sound
Broken figure spun around
Dancin’ crooked, I confess
Every flaw a new address
Ugly rhythm, holy beat
Every wound repeat repeat.

I don’t like my body — but I wear it out tonight
Dancin’ in the fracture, burnin’ in the light
Cut to fit, cut to fit, never perfect, never right
Still I twist my shadow till it feels alive

Cut-cut-cut… never quit
Cut-cut-cut… this is it
Cut-cut-cut… never quit
Cut-cut-cut… this is it

Cut it out… cut it in…
I don’t know where I begin.

I don't like my body (Alternative Hip Hop)

This track feels like a hazy walk through the city at night, slow-moving yet restless, with fragments of rhythm flickering like neon signs in the distance. The beat doesn’t march forward in a straight line; it sways and stumbles, echoing like footsteps on empty streets. Sounds drift in and out, layered in a grainy collage that feels atmospheric and slightly surreal, as if memory itself has been cut up and rearranged. Just like how my head feels most days. 

At its core, this piece isn’t about structure or convention. It’s about capturing the feeling of being suspended in thought, caught between movement and stillness, where hip hop becomes less a beat and more a state of mind.

Walk a mile in my shoes

https://youtu.be/n_5gC3KXuNw

I don't exist, I'm part of your imagination's figment
She didn't want me then but want me now cuz I'm living 210 elegant
But we Still Tippin', I'm in the back of the limousine blowing Animal Mints
Motherfucker, I'm peanuts like Elephant, step in the room and I own it

Yeah, man, I don't exist
And if we really wanna be technical, your girlfriend always bouncing on my invisible tip
But I don't really want that chick, she be hittin' licks on nigs like Cardi B did
I know I'm too juiced in the function when I crushed in like the Koolaid man, bitch

But, they don't see me, all they see is floating fabrics
I don't exist, remember, so I'm hidden like a dagger
I'm cloaked yet to those who want to expose, I'm ready for battle
Youngest in Charge of the fuckin' rap game, I been hiding in the shadows of the saddle

Scarf and flannel obscure me like I'm Bloghaus or a typical white nigga from Seattle
Introduce myself like preamble before I chew you niggas out the question like an apple
Bad Apple!! Blood type is Peach Snapple, your guns go "Pop!" and mine go "Snap!" and "Crackle!"
Anywhere I go, I need Indica, Sativa and my fake rolexes, bring 'em on a lil travel

And I won't stop rapping until my body is gravel and in a jar from drowning when I learned how to doggy paddle
These tech addled freaks just talk and talk and talk and talk and babble, I suppose it's cuz they ain't got pockets thicker than an Adam's Apple
They don't know what it's like to leave their stable on the grind trying to get Paid In Full
We know yo moms give everything to you

You bozo rich kids deep in the trust fund pit, but I'm still up than your whole crew
Not like Uncle Scrooge like yo pops is, but I can show you more than a band or two
She a patient in my waitin' room, I never pay attention to the rumors and what they assume
My words they purposefully misconstrue, but unless I see a badge on their ass I couldn't give a fuck about their whining and whatever the hell they spew

I. Don't. Exist. (Juiced) [@djchud2]

a nice and dark abstract beat hip hop by Mako the french beatmaker

schoolyard

a track i've made a year ago. hope you enjoy the emo's. 

free 

chaos flower.

Human of the Future is the music project of Robin Neilly, created to connect with people on a deeper level through emotion. The music is about telling stories through sound, with melodies, atmospheres, and rhythms that carry real feeling.

For me, Human of the Future is about reminding us that music isn’t just something we hear. It’s something we experience and something we feel.

The entire sound is in my hands. I write cyber poetry, produce, and compose every track — only in Immersive 3D. Every beat is crafted for spatial and next-gen headphones.
Intimate lyrics, total immersion, every track.

For 30 years I kept unfinished demos to myself, never letting them out. Now I finish what I start and release it the moment it’s alive.

Music Producer that lives for making emotional tunes. Creating from Electronic music to Hip Hop with a ethereal touch. ( )

BLUE TIGER Out Now all plats
⠀⠀
⠀DJ (C)annibalistic (H)umanoid (U)nderground (D)weller 

https://go-hard.neocities.org 
 1/2 of @cashismydomain⠀Every song prod me unless specified

" Créateur de rythme". To make heads move.
From Paris, of course, my influences come from everywhere and elsewhere. Abstract hip-hop, trip-hop, jazz...  of course,The real hip-hop... et pas seulement...My compositions are the fruit of travels and encounters. I'm delighted to share them with you.
my insta: Makonico77
Universal spirit

THE MULTIFACETED BASTARD:
HOME GROWN PRODUCTIONZ
(ALL TRACKS WRITTEN, PERFORMED & PRODUCED BY FLIP G DUB) 
THE G DUB PROJECT

New tracks tagged #Abstract Hip Hop