Pump pump pump pump 
pump pump pump pump
Pump it up and tell the Dj spin up mi tunes 
Man dem drip so swampy money green what dem ooze 
Making hits that make dem pussy pop and shit what mi do 
Tell her pick it up dutty wine fat pum pum pon you 

I’m Rihanna to the Dj - Tell em pon de replay 
And I ain’t doing shit until my mf fee paid 
And if you wanna know if I take tips 
Check the feet paint
Frenchy wanna kiss me 
in Houston like I’m Whitney 
Sell the goodies to him make him wanna buy some
Put a tax on it if he need a write off 
Most these other rappers need to book me as they writer 
But they ain’t got the funds to afford me 
They credit dont support it 

The only transaction you bitches getting is hormones 
And I ain’t open shit for bitches that’s why the door closed 
The only dick you tuck is the one you use in y’a pornos 
We ain’t gotta be cool and we ain’t gotta be cordial 

And I ain’t gotta check shit-they Nike- bitches should just do it 
Your man really like me baby the texts prove it 
1-800-fight me, sike we don’t 
fight over Niggas get right over Niggas like 

1 2 3 4 5 fingers up in his face 
Even when I’m bitchy bet he still do what I say 
Change his name to banker in my phone
Cause every time he call me than I know that I’m about to get paid 

Yeah nigga right thurr right thurrr 
And he always give me pins like writers writers 
Answer questions from the press, yeah you, right there 
How I land more bars than Rykers Rykers 



Pump it up and tell the Dj spin up mi tunes 
Man dem drip so swampy money green what dem ooze 
Making hits that make dem pussy pop and shit what mi do 
Tell her pick it up dutty wine fat pum pum pon you 


YEAHHHHH
TELL THE DJ SPIN TREE FOUR FIFE 
BRUCK UP DA PARTY MAKE DA TING GO LIVE 
WHEN MI WHISTLE PON DA GAL MAKE HER PUM OOZE NICE 
PUT DA PYFON IN HER FACE MAKE DI KNEES GER NYEE 


Yeah bitch I’m on a roll get my quarters on 
I’m cooking, chef Ramsey Gordon hoes 
Been balling NBA Jordan nahhh 
Ben Baller on the ice it’s more than froze 

In this game I’m not a bachelor I mastered it 
I’m painfully married, love hard, masochist 
Who playing a part? except you, actresses 
Your ghost writer gotta be zoey kravitz bitch 

There’s an architecture to any construction of a blueprint 
If orchestras orchestrated I’m conducting the music 
In a marching band I’m the drum major in leading the movements 
Wanna sing with choir than you bitches should get in tune 


Don’t @ me if it ain’t bout the cash gee 
Cause you know where I’m at b I’m always where the bag be 

Don’t tag me if it ain’t bout the cash gee 
And you know what my tag be 
« Marrkaink don’t need no adlibs bitch »

SWAMPY

444 (Marrkaink, Mari Da Demon)

#SoundCloud
#NewMusic
#Music
#Trending
#NowPlaying
#MusicProducer
#MusicDiscovery

Love is not so blind

#SoundCloudMusic
#NewMusic
#MusicLovers
#IndependentArtist
#UnsignedHype
#MusicDiscovery
#NowPlaying
#HipHop
#R&B
#PopMusic
#SoulMusic
#IndieMusic
#NewVibes
#BangerAlert
#OnRepeat
#ViralSounds
#MusicIsLife
#HitThePlayButton
#NextUp

Love In The Shade (Too Hot)

I Noticed

Outside

All Stars

“Crayola!” is a colorful, confident, and subversive anthem that feels like a conjuring circle made of glitter, incense, and dollar bills. It’s a rejection of industry puppetry, a reclamation of femme magic, and a poetic flex that feels street-certified and metaphysically protected.

This isn’t rap for the radio. This is rap for the altar.
And if someone’s not listening close, they’re gonna miss that the beat just hexed them.

Crayola!

The entire track is a allegory of how artists— especially Black, especially femme-are harvested, sold, drained, and discarded. I use the stomach, cervix, ribs, and womb to locate the war. Your literal body becomes the site of critique. This song criticizes industry and reveals it as predatory, consumptive, and inhuman. Visualizing what it means to be spiritually fed lies while physically starving.

Starving Artists

“These Poor Walls” is my response to the way men lie about women—how they slut-shame, project, and degrade them with phrases like “she has no walls” or calling women “loose.” It’s wild how even vaginal walls become collateral damage in conversations shaped by patriarchy. These poor walls are always catching strays.

This song calls that out. It’s about how misogyny takes something intimate and sacred—like a woman’s body—and turns it into public property for ridicule. Meanwhile, the men doing the most projecting are often the ones hiding their own hypersexuality, insecurity, or abuse.

So when I say “these poor walls,” I’m mourning the way women are talked about, blamed, and pathologized for being sexual—or just for being seen. I’m not just defending the woman they lied on. I’m defending the body they dragged into the lie. I’m defending all the rooms—the hearts, the wombs, the lives—that had to hold that kind of shame.

These Poor Walls

Me vs. Everything

SOLO (DGMFU) (Briar B, PUMA)

MURDA

Just an artist building my artistic muscle and strengthening my artistic bone. Such is my PENance! ✍🏾🔥🫶🏾

PUMA

Pinned to spotlight

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