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We’re hitting 88 miles per hour with this one. "Space & Time" is a nuclear reaction of heavy bass and cosmic flows. Hop in the DeLorean, crank the volume, and let's alter the continuum.

Space & Time

#westcoast #hiphop #g-funk 

Back To Mogadishu
(West Coast G-Funk Anthem – Lowrider Slow Cruise, 2025)  [Intro – Syrupy synth whistle, talkbox harmony]
Yeeeaaaah…
Rollin’ down the boulevard, switches hittin’ slow,
Candy paint drippin’, Daytons stealin’ the show.
West Coast till I die, this our land, feel me?
Talkbox: Baaaack… to Mogadishuuuu…  [Hook – Deep 808s + Zapp-style talkbox]
Back to Mogadishu, yeah, that’s where you belong,
We know where your heart at, so take that ride home.
Loyalty talk loud, we see it clear as day,
Stay where you loyal, fam—don’t come back this way.
Back to Mogadishu, let the desert wind blow,
This America’s soil, from the backwoods to the Bay.
We don’t leave our ground, nah, we hold it down strong,
Black, white, and brown—this where we belong.  [Verse 1]
Cruisin’ in the ’63, trunk rattlin’ the block,
Bass so deep it shake the palm trees on the spot.
You wave a different flag when the cameras ain’t around,
Talk sweet to our face, but we know how you get down.
It’s common sense, baby—go where your roots run deep,
We built this from the dirt, earned every inch we keep.
From the country backroads to the Oakland streets,
Hydraulics hoppin’ high while the G-funk beats.
You want the benefits but skip the pride we bleed,
So pack them bags quiet—plant your own seed.
Talkbox whisper: Loyalty… don’t lie… take that flight tonight…  [Hook]
Back to Mogadishu, yeah, that’s where you belong,
We know where your heart at, so take that ride home.
Loyalty talk loud, we see it clear as day,
Stay where you loyal, fam—don’t come back this way.
Back to Mogadishu, let the desert wind blow,
This America’s soil, from the backwoods to the Bay.
We don’t leave our ground, nah, we hold it down strong,
Black, white, and brown—this where we belong.  [Verse 2]
Sun settin’ orange over the Pacific shore,
Lowrider parade, engines growlin’ for more.
We mix like the beat—funk from every side,
Red, white, and blue woven deep in our pride.
You cheer for the other team when we take the field,
Then cry for protection when the pressure get real.
Nah, that don’t add up, math ain’t mathin’ today,
So catch that red-eye, let the homeland call your name.
From the Southern pines to the Northern lights glow,
Every inch of this dirt got our blood in the soil.
We ride for the stars and stripes, no switchin’ the lane,
You ride for another—then stay in your lane.  [Bridge – Slowed down, heavy talkbox]
Talkbox: Baaaack… roooooads… still callin’…
Bass still poundin’, heart still grounded…
Black, white, brown—hands on the wheel…
This our America… this shit real…  [Final Hook – Synth whistle risin’, crowd chant vibe]
Back to Mogadishu, yeah, that’s where you belong!
We know where your heart at—sing your own damn song!
Loyalty don’t flex, it stay solid and true,
Stay where you loyal—we good without you.
Back to Mogadishu, desert callin’ your name,
From the backwoods to the Bay—this our claim!
Americans forever, roots run too deep to pull,
Black, white, and brown—West Coast full!  [Outro – Fading whistle

Back to Mogadishu

Aimed at the irony of modern American self-proclaimed Marxists—mostly privileged white liberals—who romanticize revolution while waving flags of failed regimes, all while being unwitting tools in a bigger game. I built it around your lines and ideas, expanding them into verses, a catchy chorus, and a bridge/outro for punch.Marxist Dreams[Intro – spoken/low filtered voice, like a glitchy manifesto read over static]
From the campus quad to the blue-check feed...
You quote Das Kapital but shop at Whole Foods...
Wake up, comrade. This aint the revolution you ordered.[Chorus]
Marxist dreams, you think you winnin
But we know that you schemin, just grinnin
Marxist dreams, it dont exist
If it did, youd cease to exist
You fight for the cause, but youre so lost
Savin the world, dont know the cost
Wavin the flag of Chairman Mao
This is exactly what you want—right now[Verse 1]
White liberals in designer Che Guevara tees
Tweetin bout the proletariat from their daddys degrees
Seize the means? Nah, you seize the likes and the clout
Virtue signal loud, then log off and cash out
You march for equality, but live in gated estates
Cryin bout oppression while sippin $12 lattes late
Down with the bourgeoisie!—but youre the new elite
Postin black squares, then deletin receipts
You read the Manifesto, skipped the history part
Where every utopia left bodies in the dark
Starvation quotas, gulags, re-education camps
But you call it problematic, not straight-up damn[Chorus]
Marxist dreams, you think you winnin
But we know that you schemin, just grinnin
Marxist dreams, it dont exist
If it did, youd cease to exist
You fight for the cause, but youre so lost
Savin the world, dont know the cost
Wavin the flag of Chairman Mao
This is exactly what you want—right now[Verse 2]
Youre not lost or brainwashed, nah—this is your thrill
Playin revolutionary gives you that socialist chill
Defund the police, but call security when its real
Cancel culture queen, but fragile like fine china feel
You dream of the commune, but hoard your iPhone stock
Talk class warfare while your portfolio rocks
Pawns in the game, useful idiots on repeat
Woke up one morning to find your own throat at your feet
The vanguard you worship would purge you first day
No room for trust-fund rebels in the real ballet
Your revolution streams live on capitalist Wi-Fi
While the actual workers clock in, wonder why[Bridge – slower, almost spoken-word, building tension]
White liberals, wake up— youre only pawns in this dream
You built the castle on stolen land, now you scream
About equity, justice, reparations supreme
But when the bill comes due, youll vanish like steam
You will wake up, then its over, you see...
The dream turns nightmare, and its swallowin thee
No more safe sp

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