Music video: https://youtu.be/8yepcXXNPeo
MIX/MASTER: SYRYUS
DESIGN: KILL TRAVIS
DISCLAIMER: This is a work of art and does not reflect the views of the artist(s). All content is fictional.

Seeker on expedition across the realm
Far from the home of gum trees and yabby shells
Elixir and powder, not only for oneself
Many years to come near to complete the spell
Take a pick to gargantuous tumulus
Kurgan must hold the most rare of grave goods
Intoxicating skull of Basileus
Imbued with Nikephoros' rage, make drink hiss
Goblet that's posthumous, break into a cavity
Crypt that's opulent, the traveller all raggedy
Followed the document, tryna affect him massively
Crafted in a rotten tent, treasure from casualty

Pick strikes stone, doom in its peal
Once again the tomb is open, broke its seal
Break and enter, see what's revealed
Handles of silver, blades of Damascus steel
Steppeman's helm atop a carved bust
Plate Bulgar shield, only seen one such
Among crown jewels sits Krum's cup
Vessel of the Khan, a prize of dumb luck
Potion first to enter the argent-rimmed skull
Then powders stirred in, bubbles form as it mulls
Mix coming to a fierce boil 'fore it dulls
Cup upheld, myriad thoughts intrude the lull

Fumes hit 'fore lips touch the cranium
In an instant, overcome with a mania
Despite mind become legion, a sip remains salient
Did he mistake what makes up Arcadia?
His self falling away into byzantine fractals
Then broke and sequestered in tesseract-shaped castles
Kept behind walls all sculpt from time, not basalt
Held forevermore and from the start, irrational
That hollow flesh shell left to dwell in king's rathole
Self given to Tengri, another stitch in the Sky Saddle
Beamed out through the jewel held where once lay the Emperor's eyeball
The promised cup, frightful


This song refers to the aftermath of the Battle of Pliska, Bulgaria in the year 811. The Eastern Roman Emperor Nikephoros I, of Ghassanid Arab ethnicity and following Eastern Orthodox Christianity, was ambushed and killed alongside his army while his son was paralysed by blow to the neck. The victor, Khan of the Bulgars, Krum who presumably still practiced steppe religion (labelled Tengrism in later periods, worshipping the sky god Tengri, a personification of the universe) turned Nikephoros' skull into a silver-coated cup that became part of the Bulgarian crown jewels before being lost to time.

Khan's Cup - MUSIC VIDEO IN DESC (PROD. SYRYUS)

MIX/MASTER: SYRYUS
DESIGN: KILL TRAVIS
DISCLAIMER: This is a work of art and does not reflect the views of the artist(s). All content is fictional.

SIGNAL FEAT. juju 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁳󠁣󠁴󠁿x🇦🇺 (PROD. SYRYUS)

MIX/MASTER: SYRYUS
DESIGN: KILL TRAVIS

Thinking "who's me" over a big hemp wrap missile
Mosquito buzz, me and Lucy concoct the riddles
My eyes eat the UV and watch the cranes swivel
Chaos in the two seat, grey matter in my spittle
Middle-manning, feel like a Parthian on the Silk Road
Those 448 gram loads of go
Brought ackstays of shnashcay
So even now, those that are low try to blow up my phone
And I don't even like the feeling when I'm stoned
Just makes me think how Johnny's never coming home
A cunt out at functions, I wanna go home
But the lasses want nangs to songs that're my own
They like to hear my voice wobble and go melty
Greek chicks tranced, huffing gas, oracles at Delphi
Stop sooking lad, she's not your Dr. Melfi
Meanwhile, Mr. Travis always been stealthy
Practiced by sneaking 'round to sell things
You're the type to run around and tell things
Get me on a stage, I'm bound to shell 'til the bell rings
You don't wanna know what I'm propelling

Lad, I'm launching river stones out the pipe
Joint to the vent of the barrel to light
All our smooth pebbles still punch through your spine
Me and Dayz in the cut, where you won't find a sign
Lad, I'm launching river stones out the pipe
Joint to the vent of the barrel to light
All our smooth pebbles still punch through your spine
Me and Dayz in the cut, where you won't find a sign

What kind of gronk do you have to be
If your dream job is to be a part of the police
Ima make these aggotfays get on their knees
Yung Queen of Brisganistan Sidney P
I sold a lotta records and a lot of people know me
I'm a young trans legend like I'm Sophie
Blow me cunt, where's my goddamn trophy
I just won 300 bucks on da pokies

Lad, I'm launching river stones out the pipe
Joint to the vent of the barrel to light
All our smooth pebbles still punch through your spine
Me and Dayz in the cut, where you won't find a sign
Lad, I'm launching river stones out the pipe
Joint to the vent of the barrel to light
All our smooth pebbles still punch through your spine
Me and Dayz in the cut, where you won't find a sign

DISCLAIMER: This is a work of art and does not reflect the views of the artist(s). All content is fictional.

Skin Like Stone feat. Sidney Phillips (PROD. Kenopro79)

the Goldlanders' Saga
MIX/MASTER: SYRYUS
DESIGN: KILL TRAVIS

DISCLAIMER: This is a work of art and does not reflect the views of the artist(s). All content is fictional.

in the yurt me sav and dayzeya
bagging up work burning hash in a brazier
you can keep waiting for a saviour
working with what we got after comes later

slave to the bush, with a bushmaster
narcosatanico im tryna push faster
mashing up khat gulping down kava
alkaloid caucasoid granted a patch like galata

get in formation getcha guard up
better hunker down cos ya cant charge us
got a spatha swinging it hard bra 
sprinting naked n painted you wait to get carve up

hoddlendinga saga

fuck with my bradas turn it to a saga
run your drachma you dont want a drama
rob a farmer and after i bury my karma

you dont want a drama
got sticky fingers all up in your larder
hoddlendinga saga
nah you dont want some godsforsaken drama

contact for fire turned ax for hire
caps were too minor bags out flyers
tour groups dont know where my site is
conniver sifting through bones and fibers

get hoist on the yard arm like your martyr
tipsy in tbilisi yelling gamarjoba
like im in the village cruising in a lada
timur tengis n badjana pouring us chacha

ive been rowing in a grey longship
know a cunt who keeps a bongfish
he'll pull one past the guppy n pop some oxycontin
its seen some things n swims black rez on fins

try to give my door a kick 
meet a spinning hatchet bitch
they make me sick
cos i know when they go down on their chick
they kiss the weld and come up with rusted lips
standard sitch with a head full of bricks

getting high behind the fridge
custard eye buh hind the lid
Russified buyin up cid
dash two five behind cyrillic script

Hoddlendinga Saga (PROD. SUS1ER)

MIX/MASTER: SYRYUS
DESIGN: Oscar Sallas

DISCLAIMER: This is a work of art and does not reflect the views of the artist(s). All content is fictional.

got too many yellow notes cant play more spotto
neat n organised in my grotto
two hundred n eighty dot Os
when it all ends ill be on a bike with a spike 
fuck a roscoe

what you know bout being clandestine? clando
caravan djinn, making sand flow
better hope that banned load of sandstone lands bro
if not then no comment mando

lads who make cans flow and plants grow
seen the lights and ran those
in hand a falx, not a rambo
swear to god look like you came out a can

run it up all you like 
you not got it right
if you cant tell when not to bite
on site at the event with the vyv and im blind
pine and lime, calling mine in a bind

doing banned jump kicks in a slam pit 
drinks spilt, blood noses b4 i land it
butting like a ram, sick head dancing
youre a fan bitch ill introduce you to real bandits

Clandestine [CLANDO] (PROD. SYRYUS)

https://youtu.be/uvRDytqupFI
MIX: SYRYUS
MASTER: tove
DESIGN: KILL TRAVIS + k33psnak3 + bygone angel

DISCLAIMER: This is a work of art and does not reflect the views of the artist(s). All content is fictional.

Collar feat. lil ket - MUSIC VIDEO IN DESC (PROD. SYRYUS)

MIX: SYRYUS
MASTER: tove
DESIGN: KILL TRAVIS + k33psnak3 + 2oo2

their love for me is like Didos
they made the oxhide fief my own
they watch at my left hand on the feasts throne
while you come to offer up your cheap show
torn garments foul melon headed wretch
scorned by the sow from whose teat you fed
gored by her filthy tusks you fled bled and beg
now scrounge crusts from around my guests legs
boy you were lucky you ever were kept
already i tire of your undulating neck
and voicebox full of lame but overactive threads
yet you are uncouth enough to make a threat
already having taken coin, service is a debt
a deal was set and spite protest your end was not met
a lack of convicton, it seems clear that itd always head towards a wreck

linen thorax pon my breast
lycian greave on leading leg
and just as your defenses shed
feel the flying head embed

this is the end you cant get no revenge
struck down with a blade from neck to leg

DISCLAIMER: This is a work of art and does not reflect the views of the artist(s). All content is fictional.

End (PROD. SYRYUS)

MIX: SYRYUS
MASTER: tove
DESIGN: KILL TRAVIS + k33psnak3 + 2oo2

blue lipped mentation
waiting impatient
curved blade like a dacian
cradled at the station
all my days in creation
no hesitation
no hesitation

in hp with a hp 
daydream in a taxi
run me your cash please
taxi in a daydream
at the point keep feeling like whats left to appease
just another weed weekend
drawn out for its length
bet on regret and crib left unkempt
a home to a den
and without you there i wonder what the fuck it all meant

i dance nah i dont dance
see me out tommy on my arse
i can laugh n deny im a mark 
yeah i tried to stay sharp
didnt stop my damn heart getting plucked like a harp
hakk these shox to dust 
sweat flaking like rust 
what you faking for cuz?
come hold my hand at the cusp
cusp of something great but great doesn't mean good
we left when the cave shook 
they were in the bath and i couldnt even look
now i dont know if what shouldve been could
i wanted to blast it, my mouth was sealed like a carton
this is what it took for my feelings to sharpen

DISCLAIMER: This is a work of art and does not reflect the views of the artist(s). All content is fictional.

Sharpen (PROD. SYRYUS)

MIX: SYRYUS
MASTER: tove
DESIGN: KILL TRAVIS + k33psnak3 + 2oo2

walking round with spikes that’re way too long
lads that’ll wanna check where you’re from
that’s postcodes don’t say the wrong one
or it’s affray, knocked underneath the throng
aspen bottles n blister sheets in her handbag
i’ve been handing out bad cash
pumping jobs for one her sand and two her scag
if their friends owe then they’re getting sold bash
that’s not M in those caps
spindly and pale gaunt and trav
since i was young seen the tracks and rash
then the pipe came and put ants in those scabs 
broke down poppies all the way from iran
hume highway in the A U sedan
took a trip cars waiting soon as i land 

i owe my lifestyle to sandwich bags
doing graft made me a man

DISCLAIMER: This is a work of art and does not reflect the views of the artist(s). All content is fictional.

Spindle (PROD. SYRYUS)

MIX: SYRYUS
MASTER: tove
DESIGN: KILL TRAVIS + k33psnak3 + 2oo2

i still see your face in the fumes
taking my place among fungal bloom
as a man im still grey now just tinged blue
its still eye for an eye a tooth for a tooth true
in this tomb theres gas leaks and rot
come leak gas and rot watching the box
feel famous after a couple shots
drift off, we're in the crib like a cot
black top black hair remember i was sat there
fuck life im not naive dont think thats its fair
but i thought that we could at least share
the cat stared at our red heart blue brain and black hair
you know where im at if you need
huntsman creeping im asked to kill it please
meanwhile your neck smells like a millipede
your loves got me so ill at ease

and my baby's so vain
that she's almost a mirror
 the sound of her name
sends a permanent shiver 
down my spine
down my spine
and my baby's insane
hes almost been a killer
 the sound of his name 
sends a permanent shiver
down my spine 
down my spine

she say she love me whatever that mean
first ep grey the next tape was green 
back then i had it bursting at the seams
since dreams came back ive lost it all it seems 
with tusi on the beach squirming in pitch black
will i ever find a mismatch or am i too kickback
lost in the present lost those i would bring back
forget the fire in my arms im left with a singed lap
one more time sing that dark tune
its no longer something i do
breathing fumes picture the face of you 
when im in the frame for you dont forget the blue

and my baby's so vain
that she's almost a mirror
 the sound of her name
sends a permanent shiver 
down my spine
down my spine
and my baby's insane
hes almost been a killer
 the sound of his name 
sends a permanent shiver
down my spine 
down my spine

DISCLAIMER: This is a work of art and does not reflect the views of the artist(s). All content is fictional.

Shivers (PROD. SYRYUS)

BUSH MUSIC ONLY
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DBR 307
DARKBUSHRANGERS
NORTHSIDE 73 BURN CITY NAARM 4L

New tracks tagged #killtravis