Smash The Blond

Smash The Blond (DnB Mix)

Always down to joke 
I’m always down to smoke 
Riding round with a pound of dope 
See the truth I can’t deal with the lies 
When I’m out in the streets, they hide 
Lil baddie, open it wide
See a pussy I look in his eyes
Addy XR I’m taking my medicine
Niggas upset Imma show you irrelevant
I’ll make a bih nigga pay like a settlement
I’m going dumb because I’m very intelligent 
Walk to the church, speak to the reverend
Shawty gone slurp me, 7 11
You can get hurt I can send you to heaven
I cannot get a job bitch you know imma felon

Stream

XR Prod Sanperseus & Dogmurd

lemon-lime recliner (ft. 33RD CABLE) (prod. URCHIN & STADIUM)

Inspired by the view across the sea. I intended to make this on the beach, but wind, sand and laptops are not compatible species. So made in the hotel and poolside mobile studio :)

Synths are Arturia Analog Labs, except the drums, recorded and produced in Ableton.

Storms Rising Over North Africa

Waste Makes Haste

tinfoil dreams (prod. pipebomb) (urchin mix)

3033 [Twnt8y X 33rd Remix]

La trappola

"Nowhere Drive" is a continuation of Sad Drive, but this time, it’s about looking in the mirror and seeing the cycle staring back. It’s about realizing that, without meaning to, I carried my past into my future – and in doing so, I passed down a weight that was never meant for my children to bear.

(But there’s hope. You can pull over, step outside, and start again. You can choose to take care of yourself first, so you can take care of others without losing yourself in the process. Because if you don’t listen to yourself, the weight of others will always be too much to carry.)

This song is for anyone who’s ever felt trapped in a path they never chose. You’re not alone. You can break free.

[Verse 1]
Yellow lines blur, hands grip the wheel
I swore I’d never turn out like them, but here I am still
Ghosts in the rearview, playing their part
A voice in my chest that was never my heart

[Pre-Chorus]
The same old fight in a different key
The same old weight that don’t belong to me
A stranger's words in my own mouth
A cycle I swore I’d figure out

[Chorus]
Nowhere drive, nowhere fast
Carrying things that were never mine to grasp
Road signs whisper, turn around
But the engine hums like a burial ground

[Verse 2]
A child cries in another room
I freeze mid-step, like I always do
Is this the moment I break the chain?
Or just another turn in a dead-end game?

[Pre-Chorus]
The same old fight in a different key
The same old weight that don’t belong to me
A stranger's words in my own mouth
A cycle I swore I’d figure out

[Chorus]
Nowhere drive, nowhere fast
Carrying things that were never mine to grasp
Road signs whisper, turn around
But the engine hums like a burial ground

[Bridge]
Headlights flicker, the mirror cracks
I see my father staring back
Not his hands, not his eyes
But the same old silence in disguise

[Outro]
Forgive me, I never knew
How to hold myself the way I should hold you
This road was never yours to drive
So I pull over – I step outside

Nowhere Drive [Moonrise Mix]

HEADHPONEMUSIC TOXICBONEZ #AKA #HELLBOUNDBOYS

When the poet retreated to Scotland,
to his upper largo estate of stone and silence,
he was not alone.

For three nights straight,
a woman came to his balcony—
not of flesh,
but of breath and shadow,
wanting only to sit,
to talk,
to spill whispers that carried tears.

They call her K.
And her beauty was never quiet.
Pink and black roses bloomed at her feet,
roses so sharp that when the poet
reached for her face,
they pricked his finger—
a warning that love here was no soft mercy.

He realized then,
this was not the same woman he once dreamt of.
The night skies turned,
stars opening like watchful eyes,
and through them he saw her—
a celestial woman gazing down,
searching his consciousness,
trying to step closer without breaking him.

She lingered above his world,
just watching,
curious.
Not a muse,
but something older.
A presence who wondered
when she could finally sit beside him
without the roses drawing blood.

So he wrote.
Each poem carved from the ache
that something—
someone—
was calling.
He wrote of her presence,
her distance,
her balcony visits,
and the way she haunted the stone corridors of Scotland
like a vow unspoken.

In isolation,
he heard his elder voices
channel through him,
guiding each line.
And with every verse,
he realized:

This EP isn’t just a sound.
It is an interaction.
A diary of nights spent with the unseen,
with a woman who came not to love—
but to remind him
that the veil between them
is thin as a rose petal,
and sharp as its thorn.

FIFE TALKS

I make rap and electronic music
If there's no (Prod.) in the title I made the beat

lemon-lime recliner (ft. 33RD CABLE) (prod. URCHIN & STADIUM)

URCHIN

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33rd Cable

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