Name: The Fog (Instrumental) by Vyraz
Duration: 2 min 40 s
Description: A trap instrumental inspired by a trip to St. Petersburg. I´m trying to tell a story with my Beats without Lyrics. Open to interpretation.

As our newsroom worked on this week’s show about the shooting in Orlando, Reveal’s Michael Corey and Jim Briggs started thinking about a way to represent those lost in the mass shooting through sound.

This track is the result: a sonic memorial to the 49 people lost in Orlando at Pulse nightclub. The tones are meant to be funereal, but also celebratory. Each new tone in this piece represents the birth of one of the people who died that night. And that note rings again for each year of their lives.

Learn more: https://www.revealnews.org/blog/a-sonic-memorial-to-the-victims-at-orlandos-pulse-nightclub/

A sonic memorial to the Orlando shooting victims

A trap instrumental inspired by a trip to St. Petersburg. I´m trying to tell a story with my Beats without Lyrics. Open to interpretation.

The Fog (Instrumental)

New single. 

Lyrically dealing with my mental dissatisfaction. A very dark trap instrumental with two beatswitches.

Different laid-back flow variations.

Warning: The bass might fuck up your system, if put too much emphasis on it. Headphones are recommended.

Lyrics:
Hold my head out the window of the vehicle.
K throwing ou all-out add-libs.
We crack our chances like rips.
Rap with the radio, crazed and critical.
Its past eleven and we ride the rhythm.
Numbed by lacerated logarithms.
Also Songs we can’t stand, but we’re cynical.
Intoxicated by our brain infection, slurring the syllables.
Hit the highway.
No ice cube, not a good day.
Thinking bout rolling up some sess.
Shit I can’t afford, got a lack of cash.
Considering couriering again,
Plugging for the plug-ins.
My lost brothers, wanna hug‘em
All the bluffers, scalp them.

Get home at 11:30, workday
In the kitchen, momma left a pudding bretzel.
It‘s bittersweet , like an Earl grey
and thereby so dreadful.
Arrive but don’t even wanna enter.
As Temperature is cold as December.
We don’t wanna talk or sit together,
No diamonds coming from our pressure.
Sit in my car and prepare the next candlestick.
Hung with brown wool, strangled by it.
My homelands wrecked like Nazareth.
I become my own anesthesist.
Whole day I think bout writing some bars.
But back at home I’m carried 'way too far.
My enemy is my resistance.
Threatening me and my existence.

And as soon as the girl came,
I realise it’s not for what I crave.
In the spirit of tryna fix my inside,
I open up new ones before finishing the existing construction sites.
Write down the demons of the night,
but can’t scream‘em out like Randy Blythe.
Impossible for me to relax,
Always make a Head when receiving head.
Regardless if relationship or benefits,
the Satisfaction just won’t hit.
Neon lights, marijuana in my system,
Immersed and yet live a schism.
Сто грамм so at least my head bangs.
Awake in a fever dream, march of the fire ants.
Crawl through my cavities.
Craving, now a part of my anatomy.

I‘ve got to flush‘em out of my blood stream,
Ever since i was 15 alc seemed to be the appropriate scheme.
Certain Rolling Stones Songs on the deck,
Keep my mind from racing like the kid from Quebec.
Where is my energy if it’s not on the track.
May I get the fucking monkey of my back.
I ache for a sense of escape,
wish on my feet were my 773‘s.
I’ve been shaken deeply in my faith
and got cuts in my moral resin weave.
Endurance is sinking like 1915,
inedible like a raw coffee bean.
Er‘Time I think bout the accident,
I do it accidentally;
Cause you would be more worth in death like some presidents.
Edged between short story and old glory,
Выражение, elaboratory.

They way ain’t always the goal,
not this case; tryna feed my soul.
At a point where saying becomes a euphemism.
Like saying a PD has no breeding ground for racism.
I‘m Fucking stargazing, well chasing,
devildating and got no room for embracing
The gaping emptiness that is filled by craving
Yet no idea for what i am exactly aiming,
Besides the sense of saturation.
Fulfilled by, I hope so, creation.
Not a pirate that’s going for the pyrite,
I strife to fly a rocket and to be the pilot.
Blow my mind, on tobacco and weed, a plethora 
Drive like a demon etc.
Here am I, where’s the connection made?
Still on time or am I late.

Craving

Craving - Vyraz(Kyngo Remix)

2013 (Prod. Young $wisher)

Remaster of my single "Craving". 

Lyrically dealing with my mental dissatisfaction. A very dark trap instrumental with two beatswitches.

Different laid-back flow variations.

Warning: The bass might fuck up your system, if put too much emphasis on it. Headphones are recommended.

Lyrics:
Hold my head out the window of the vehicle.
K throwing ou all-out add-libs.
We crack our chances like rips.
Rap with the radio, crazed and critical.
Its past eleven and we ride the rhythm.
Numbed by lacerated logarithms.
Also Songs we can’t stand, but we’re cynical.
Intoxicated by our brain infection, slurring the syllables.
Hit the highway.
No ice cube, not a good day.
Thinking bout rolling up some sess.
Shit I can’t afford, got a lack of cash.
Considering couriering again,
Plugging for the plug-ins.
My lost brothers, wanna hug‘em
All the bluffers, scalp them.

Get home at 11:30, workday
In the kitchen, momma left a pudding bretzel.
It‘s bittersweet , like an Earl grey
and thereby so dreadful.
Arrive but don’t even wanna enter.
As Temperature is cold as December.
We don’t wanna talk or sit together,
No diamonds coming from our pressure.
Sit in my car and prepare the next candlestick.
Hung with brown wool, strangled by it.
My homelands wrecked like Nazareth.
I become my own anesthesist.
Whole day I think bout writing some bars.
But back at home I’m carried 'way too far.
My enemy is my resistance.
Threatening me and my existence.

And as soon as the girl came,
I realise it’s not for what I crave.
In the spirit of tryna fix my inside,
I open up new ones before finishing the existing construction sites.
Write down the demons of the night,
but can’t scream‘em out like Randy Blythe.
Impossible for me to relax,
Always make a Head when receiving head.
Regardless if relationship or benefits,
the Satisfaction just won’t hit.
Neon lights, marijuana in my system,
Immersed and yet live a schism.
Сто грамм so at least my head bangs.
Awake in a fever dream, march of the fire ants.
Crawl through my cavities.
Craving, now a part of my anatomy.

I‘ve got to flush‘em out of my blood stream,
Ever since i was 15 alc seemed to be the appropriate scheme.
Certain Rolling Stones Songs on the deck,
Keep my mind from racing like the kid from Quebec.
Where is my energy if it’s not on the track.
May I get the fucking monkey of my back.
I ache for a sense of escape,
wish on my feet were my 773‘s.
I’ve been shaken deeply in my faith
and got cuts in my moral resin weave.
Endurance is sinking like 1915,
inedible like a raw coffee bean.
Er‘Time I think bout the accident,
I do it accidentally;
Cause you would be more worth in death like some presidents.
Edged between short story and old glory,
Выражение, elaboratory.

They way ain’t always the goal,
not this case; tryna feed my soul.
At a point where saying becomes a euphemism.
Like saying a PD has no breeding ground for racism.
I‘m Fucking stargazing, well chasing,
devildating and got no room for embracing
The gaping emptiness that is filled by craving
Yet no idea for what i am exactly aiming,
Besides the sense of saturation.
Fulfilled by, I hope so, creation.
Not a pirate that’s going for the pyrite,
I strife to fly a rocket and to be the pilot.
Blow my mind, on tobacco and weed, a plethora 
Drive like a demon etc.
Here am I, where’s the connection made?
Still on time or am I late.

Craving (Remaster)

A Song to get fucked up to.

Bass warning, headphones recommended!

18 Hours wake, want the high stakes.
Gotta get the ganja, wanna get baked,
Going 50kmh in the 30 zone,
Hit my fam up, no more sippin all alone. 
We gon‘ roll up, Create ourselves a spliff
before them narrows show up with their stig.
No one cooks a shot and no one casts a brick,
no one does a tommy and no ones getting sick.
Brain into submarine mode,
rheumatics get a cheat code
as rulers still believe in these hoax,
Therefore we gotta keep cloaked.
Puncture their pipeline,
this interval is all mine.
No more worries in our eyesight,
seize relief as everyones birthright. 
420 ain’t our lifestyle,
just turn the rare sparetime into primetime.
Unseal the jar of our minds,
before we get down, we gotta get high
It’s keeping our freedom, it can’t be a crime.
Were chilling, don’t drag us in the lime.
If they say we glorify
then they demonise 
All we Need to keep our dream is purple and green, Baby.
Just wanna enjoy a Joynt after an uphill climb.

I share a blunt with my brothers,
Till there is nothing bothering.
I smoke with my brothers,
Till there is nothing smothering.

Let ourselves float right into the stream.
Inhaling smoke and letting of steam.
Forget for a moment that we gotta make cream.
Going with the flow, right into the stream.
Let ourselves float right into the stream.
Inhaling smoke and letting of steam.
Forget for a moment that we gotta make cream.
Going with the flow, right into the stream.

The laughter is as dirty as the sprite,
The joy is as pure Mary Jane. 
Rock the Party with all our might.
Loose the goddamn migraine, fly a fucking airplane.
Let the burning glow cleanse me,
replace the frustration and the envy in me.
Turn tension into feelings so intense
call that the regular business expense 
Store it in a piggy bank, save investment.
Pressure of days, great refreshment.
And the beauty is, everybody goes 
different,
sex, sleep, misery, all magnificent.
Turn 25 Square turn into an open plane
Simple ideas into greater gain 
Open the gate to creative ambition,
making mind capable for great fruition.

I share a blunt with my brothers,
Till there is nothing bothering.
I smoke with my brothers,
Till there is nothing smothering

Let ourselves float right into the stream.
Inhaling smoke and letting of steam.
Forget for a moment that we gotta make cream
Going with the flow, right into the stream.
Let ourselves float right into the stream.
Inhaling smoke and letting of steam.
Feel how much I am a human beings.
Going with the flow, right into the stream.

Into the Stream

https://distrokid.com/hyperfollow/akiragautama/capture-2

music has a magical way of capturing moments and memories,
like pictures in a book.
here's a Short ep of all original memories and moments captured.
perfect for studying, chilling, or just kicking it.
blessings
NGR 003 2021
Nathan Jacob Scott (BMI)
credits
releases January 20, 2021

1, 2, 3, 4, - Ableton
5, 6 also ableton with mpc 60 slowwed veisons

The Fog (Instrumental)

Vyraz

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