A long lost cut off the mixtape "Leftovers". Never fails that this one gets nixed by algorithms.

Hands on the Wheel (instrumental by Best Kept Secret)

In honor of Spooktober ('23) here is a decade old scary story track that goes over "Demon Inside" , an unreleased track by Eminem.

Exorcism

Jon Snow prod. Nuttkase

Lyrics:
Investing in me 
is a guaranteed return award. 
Burned bodies in morgues
no chance to return from war.
And still I'm burnin' more,
hotter than furnace floors.
Certainly earnin' my worth
servin' em, furthermore,
adamantly malevolent,
destroy all anthropomorphic.
Battle me now knowing
that you cannot go forfeit.
This forewarning's important,
so I wouldn't ignore it,
or wind up withered beside
Boris or poor Yorick.
Give your poor family
reason to visit a florist,
while I go and explore
like Dora in North Florence,
or jaywalk with Jayhawks
as a tourist of Lawrence,
flooring a couple of girls,
ladies thicker than porridge.
Bitch, I'm fucking around now.
So, don't test me.
I got bars melting in my heat
like they're all Nestle
or even Kit-Kat.
I write in pitch black,
and whatever I'm spittin's
like sniping with no kick back.
Need a big booty Judy.
Tryna get Iggy's digits.
Will Smith on the track,
ladies get jiggy wit it,
but not the twiggy bitches,
need them like fifty stitches,
but gimme biggy backed babes
without any hitches.
Takin' em from the kitchens.
I'm itchin' to seduce 'em,
so we can get stoned,
like we both looked at Medusa.
It's time to hit the boosters.
So now I'm losin' 'em,
cruisin' with all my tunes
from Houston into Jerusalem.

Hotter Than Furnace Floors prod. The Sound Defects

Lyrics:
We're escapin' reservations,
velociraptors comin' atcha.
Tribal warriors
not just a buncha actors.
Hunt you down
tense from our insane vibes.
Savages when battlin'
like the men of the Plains Tribes.
Tear 'em down fast,
eat you up in the same night.
No ghost dance revivals.
We sleep well when we take lives.
Take off on my horse
to which you are tethered.
Add another body
to my tally kept by feathers.
We've survived slaughters,
there is no storm we haven't weathered.
Skin as tough as leather
and only growing even better.
Broken treaties
and promises they couldn't keep
only made us stronger
like roots slowly growing deep.
Had to play the game
and everyday we try a different move.
Hit fools left and right
slicing right through their ventricles.
Black, Irish, Jewish,
our histories look identical.
Downtrodden people,
and yet we are invincible.
Invisible to mainstream,
united, indivisible,
the realest individuals,
never scared to get physical.
Trying to be sensible,
make sense of the non-sensical.
Just rollin' up this weed
that is stickier than tentacles.
Rappin' a lot longer 
than I really intended to.
Just bringin' all this hell
to wherever I am sendin' you.
Not tryin' to be biblical
or even slightly difficult,
just sayin' unsophisticated
rap is really pitiful.

Stoic Prod. Vinylz

Godzilla prod. Larry Fisherman

Burnt Dinner prod El-P

Jet Jaguar prod. Riichiro Manabe

This is going over Science Killer by The Black Angels off their album Directions To See A Ghost released in 2008!

Tsotigh