Parisian producer Staz Beats and Irish rapper Leigh Michael team up with Osaka rapper Zimbck for the trio's first release together. international bi-lingual hiphop.

Zimback
itunes.apple.com/jp/artist/zimback/386149830

Staz
@kali-ie

Support on Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/leighmichael

Spider Fight - Staz Beats X Leigh Michael X Zimback

New single from the forth coming Secret Herbs Vol. 2

https://soundcloud.com/chapstallion

Music Video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Su_pxK0DGYw

Gather round wheel pledge here to astound you.
Blather mouth presents mirage so hound clues. 
Nothing special, a lead pencil for round two
Prestige level: you see when you're allowed to 
Scope closely, both peep a baroque theme
Over see opening proscenium trope scheme 
Smoke screen, ghost streams, owed/ode to a dope fiend 
Poetry probe, needles lobes till you O.D.ed 
Or sew it's seams, nodder's lobby the obvious
Hobbyist, insomnia prop up the audience
Pontious applies’s baby wipes for the prodigies 
Common as opposite's wouldn't bob with geometry.
Anomalies drop quality odd's in a lottery  
Product that's not put up or pawned for commodity. 
Monarchies not fatherly all they seize property 
Autumn leaves fallen, roots grew to the following 
Scholars are cognisant of loops in monopoly 
Knowledge is squandered for the booze n velocity
Mutant produced music, excuse all the novelty 
Spoon bending n moon landing, true to astronomy  
Celestial odyssey - no ad-venture is promising 
Prophecy pot belly sitcoms follow policy  
Gossiping wasps conjure up wattage & aught to be’s
Comet across optics, myopic and locked to screen.   
A little privacy guy try for a diary 
Anxiety rise intertwined with your dial up speed
Its why I find night sky is a diamond feed
Imbibe the breeze, fibre needs, a sobriety   
Variety finds hype in a system of binary 
Spectrum's that swipe right we flip it so bitingly   
Unified in divisive attitudes and derisively 
Eye that seeks never spied from where that its eyelids peep
Find your key, tune true to it silently 
Distinct method sublime high on the ivory 
Acquire libraries friar sigh on the priory. 
Apply science to minds wired and spidery 
Decipher the cypher all you find is a chirping 
Defiance of herd instead of Maya in bird tweets
Minor alert admire quiet emerging
The liar is purged, every bias in your speech 

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E - 14 - Leigh Michael & Chap Stallion

Chrysalis

Hosenji

Liar

Lion Prince

Stand Tall

Clán

A little isolation goes a long way. First you make excuses why you can’t join in, next you start ignoring invites. Pretty soon you're in a self made private hell where you believe everything you think and everyone else is simply wrong. You start to filter people through a lens of bitterness and resentment that poisons everything you experience. These are cautionary tales… These are the "Misadventures of a Misanthrope”. A series of singles confronting inner negativity and embracing chaos.” #positivity

In the first single, Loki, I manifest the spirit of the trickster archetype in a dramatic reenactment  of how my mind pick's apart societies attachment to social media and technology in our daily lives. 
Listen on Spotify:
https://open.spotify.com/album/1YaBKjJqRMOml7o0e9Q3Km?si=hkaMYkR-T5SdBnAIH8ZYhg

Lyrics
I’m Loki nobody told me by obloquy 
Caste out, hoping this bode’s close to yogi 
No Leigh, joke, not even remotely 
Bogey you don’t see prone to a nose clean 
Showed up, blip, just a chip off the old screen 
Apple fell far, selling motive with no seeds
Given that node's key, but nobody broke free 
Most beep boop, demeanour of load screens
Stone protocol, self seeking in code, cheats.
No prose at all,  clones speak in emoji’s 
Hello hello hello? Yes? Hang up the phone please 
Groping the glow's insufficient for coping 
Dopamine flow hit's legitimate sloping
Soak in it slow, dizzy, busy corroding 
Addicted to strobe’s, row digital slow streams 
Overly dozing, high on the nose bleeds.
Ivory drone’s, sweet - wired for codeine
Scrolling for moments, posing with trophies
Quid pro quo and keeping the jones beat 
isn't adobe, each picture its own speech 
Soul’s speak so, those addition's are oblique 
Hope’s ghost, heck no! reflection is smoking 
Echo’s an untold particular loathing 
Digital landscape, tad inhospitable
Derivative Mandrake, damage that's critical   
Ritual campaign’s, rooted in ridicule
Peddling pedestal's push pin up, as pinnacle
Miss guided missile, sync facial recognition 
Selective vision fishing from a system of opinion
Fiction acquisition, never merits a distinction  
Abandonment dangle's McCandles malnutrition. 
Impulse, cyclical, clicks are predictable  
Tight knit brick, double think individual’s 
Tender attention the currency principal 
Effort collection, never been more invisible 
Pivotal interest, inhibited in pyramids.
Vicious comparison, competition disparagement
Merriment indeed, to, sit n just stair at it.
Fear leering back as you marry the narrative.

Trolling a goat feast, shit post coyote’s
Crow clique crone’s sit scrolling the know feeds 
Grow gloat quota, skimp on the groceries
Others raise bones - like baking with no yeast
Folk freed cold, though obsidian won't freeze 
Stroll off beat, lone zigging patrol fleets
Prose of a poet, predictive and pro tweet 
Alone in the ocean upholder of old speak! 
Insta-gratify avid palette's unsatisfied 
Hope's been abandoned, to avarice appetite
Feed back loop's choose tweezer’s to analyse 
Abhorrent malice too eager to fratricide  
Tantalising minds grey matters are patronised
Binge this season, humanities bad design 
Tenderising mallet till your attic is pacified
One click status every habit was ratified

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Loki

The second single off my Misadventures of a Misanthrope series.

In Buddhist mythology ‘Preta’, also know as hungry ghosts, undergo the suffering of extreme desire. With large appetites and no means to satisfy them they roam the earth in perpetual torment and dis-ease. 

The need to project ones fulfilment out of the present and into the future is one of humanities fundamental obstacles to happiness. Leigh’s new single ‘Preta” journey's from ignorance through self awareness in this deep seeded habitual tendency. 

These are cautionary tales. These are the Misadventures of a Misanthrope.

Preta

Welcome to the third single in the Leigh Michael’s ‘Misadventures of a Misanthrope’ series. Written under the influence of Holden Caulfield’s teenaged angst, the single 'Killing it' swallows the inevitable rejection one encounters in the music industry and succumbs to pitfalls of bitterness, resentment and jealousy that can result from said rejection. Arrogance is only concurred when confronted accepted, and surrendered. 

Killing it is written and produced by Leigh Michael. Art wok by Ross Curran.

On the Misadventures of a Misanthrope… 

"A little isolation goes a long way. First you make excuses why you can’t join in, next you start ignoring invites. Pretty soon you're in a self made private hell where you believe everything you think and everyone else is simply wrong. You start to filter people through a lens of bitterness and resentment that poisons everything you experience. These are cautionary tales… These are the "Misadventures of a Misanthrope”. A series of singles confronting inner negativity and embracing chaos.” #positivity


Lyrics

All work, no play sort of makes jack, cantankerous
An air waves phantom - buzz tower, maverick
Amorous glance? Basted born of avarice
Rabble told to clamour for, nothing short of Lazarus
I pin a shredded ribbon to my grimace and its nimbus
Get your critics and opinion’s, comes with every Guinness
Every cretin deft in business of linguistics
Piss in every ear, steady flying low, so zip it!
Gives me groggy dinner head, rudely woken from a nap
Jolly side of bed, like a U-ee in a cul-de-sac
Chew fat with laxative, shatter rule for looking back
'Ubermensch’ conducive to the rouge unto his hunting cap
Good or Bad, the ugly look upon each sullenly
Pungency of tumble weed, drug in with these dusty feet
Comfortable in company, but keep my own in custody
Reluctantly this puddle is, where the grumpy come to feed

—

V2

Growing isolation form's inaccurate portrayals
A coping mind's relationship with life is a betrayal
Detail’s in a reading come competing with the brail
Fuck's your problem?! Said the streets unto to the snail
Old audio indignity pitifully rich in imagery
Defendant come dependent on an industry that sickens me
Each epiphany, thrifty stripped to pieces fiscally
Wet beak proclivity, gimme!, the rest is history
The dread of letters spelling out a fella in a header
Suspended as a skeptic your credible a vendor
Alleged culture heads announce their presence where the sun sets
Public fashioned publication? Automatic a suspect
I don't know, Its tiring finding it so vile
Surprise surprise, inside Leigh's crying in denial
Listening insists upon slick visual's survival
Lip descriptive, "killing it" makes me homicidal

V1
Settler of contempt, depresses the hell out of me
Acceptance of ‘reject, expressing my self boundaries
Damn near freshmen, yet stepping towards a thousand weeks
Torrential drench swept away this scent, now I hound the streets.
Submitting to the middle men, flinching hand to get elect
Kid in flippancy spitting symbols through a riddled lens
Aforementioned cap's snatched, dangling at arms length
The hard sell’s consensus, more jangling of art trends
Heavily subdued, eventually you lose
That goddamn green turns everything to blue
Intruding in communities - all talk immunity
Frugal tuning of the dial, exclude you with impunity
Angsty misanthrope, hip hop obnoxious Don Quixote
Slowly own the consciousness, I’m probably a phoney
When survival violate's your principles abiding twice the harm
A little piece inside of me silently up and buys the farm /

Killing it

"I haven’t had a drink in about 8 years. In a culture that wears its relationship with alcohol like a badge of honour that can be a very isolating place to live. Unobserved thought will run amuck. Ink Blott tells the tale of god’s lonely man wandering around an intoxicated Dublin, mind feeding off self righteousness, bitterness and resentment casting a dark shadow in the night lights of the city centre. These are cautionary tales. These are the Misadventures of a Misanthrope.

On the Misadventures of a Misanthrope…

"A little isolation goes a long way. First you make excuses why you can’t join in, next you start ignoring invites. Pretty soon you're in a self made private hell where you believe everything you think and everyone else is simply wrong. You start to filter people through a lens of bitterness and resentment that poisons everything you experience. These are cautionary tales… These are the "Misadventures of a Misanthrope”. A series of singles confronting inner negativity and embracing chaos.” #positivity

The 145 floats, steady as she goes
The north stroke, swipe ‘croak’ enmity in tow
Dew drew smooth relocating to the windowsill
Patiently evading dissipating scoops with imbecile's
Palpitating intervals town awaits in critical
Condition, the decision to remiss is inadmissible
Each pint poured pinnacle, dwindles to the miserable
Synergistic inhalation, quickly comes to pivotal
A tad theatrical , though tragedy overshadow's
I don’t know, somethings in the air or I’m an asshole
Traffic drags legato, stale can’s tobacco
Scan casual act the maggot inside the apple
Last minute beseeching, trembling to street pee
No credible retreating, assembling to these feet
Bell goes bleep, Gentle in its release
Resentfully I’m entering the belly of the beast


The city beats giddily, Escher relativity
Stepping off the hell machine, domestic fest proclivity
Expression of the pent up lead from venting the precarious
Badlam, sanitarium adventures to interior
Theres no articulation for the terror I experience
When enter congregations in collective drink delirium
Various nefarious perils project from pretext
"I might have oversight my imbibe-ment" is a defence
A sober pony trojan, mostly go un noticed
Note book’s, prose from the underground is cogent
Hooded cloak, just another bloke in the ocean
Coping mechanisms, Levee lost to heavy doses
God’s lonely man, poster boy to the ‘Scholomance'
Misanthrope engrossing in the poetry of holding hands
Think not, quick ‘Vom’-when's this thing stop?
Absorbed in this horror like a Rorschach ink blot

-—

The sewer's seeping lava, out of body panorama
Misery is twinkling beneath her balaclava
This unabashed a drama, so tangled up trauma
Can’t imagine the baggage carried centuries as a phantom
Ingesting of the spirits, coldly ghosting confrontation
Yet exorcism here a quote "unsightly amputation"
The “purge” awaits liturgy for the nerve intoxication
Submerge the self enveloped in disturbing consultations
Observation as cadaver paddle drowning in the bath tub
Mixing gin with shifty grin’s distilling in the last pub
Gas fuck, capture instagram and have a last look
Like I said, somethings in the air or I’m an asshole
Persona non grata, whats the crack into an omelette?
Excommunication - drunk dialling back through a faucet
Vomit washed away- river urine (Your in) dry as well
Just a bit craic, but plays out like a cry for help
credits

Written, produced and performed by Leigh Michael
Artwork by Ross Curran

Inkblot

Hip Hop is my first musical love and rapping is my passion. I like to take a psychedelic approach to lyricism drawing inspiration from my various eastern philosophies such as Zen, Taoism and Adviata.

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