Here's a new jam to play loud in your box. 
Salma Hayek

Written and produced by Atmosphere with Plain Ole Bill on the wiki wiki. 
G Koop on instruments.
Mixed by Dillon at Stop House Studios.
Artwork by Dave Quiggle.


Atmosphere - Salma Hayek

"sleepdrone/superposition" by P.O.S off of Chill, dummy out now on Doomtree Records.


Doomtree Webstore: http://store.doomtree.net/artist/p-o-s
iTunes: bit.ly/POSChilldummyiTunes
Bandcamp: bit.ly/POSChilldummyBandcamp

featuring Allan Kingdom, Astronautalis, Eric Mayson, Kathleen Hanna, Hard_R, Lydia Liza, Lizzo, Nicholas L. Perez

Chill, dummy

sleepdrone/superposition

P.O.S "sleepdrone/superposition"

Black Thought - "Making A Murderer" Ft. Styles P Produced by 9th Wonder

Produced by Aneeway Jones.
Written by Moka Only.
Artwork: Misgah.
Mastering: Linkrust (Game A Prod).
2017.

Moka Only produced by Aneeway Jones - crumbz

What does it mean to "RISE UP"? What does it mean to RESIST?

Produced by J.PERIOD, this epic single brings together an historic lineup of artists -- Black Thought of The Roots, Posdnuos of De La Soul, Pharoahe Monch & Joss Stone -- to explore the meaning of "resistance" and the state of our Union. Additional production and instrumentation from Stro Elliot (Playlist Retreat), Larrance Dobson (1500 Or Nothin, Kendrick Lamar, Timbaland) and Jesse Blum (Misterwives). RISE UP EP available May 2.  Details: http://jperiod.com/heatrocks/view2/rise-up

RISE UP! (Music Inspired by America Divided)

RISE UP! feat. Black Thought (The Roots), Posdnuos (De La Soul), Pharoahe Monch & Joss Stone

slobopera.com

After a 2 year hibernation, I woke up in a world completely foreign to the one I fell asleep in. The air is cleaner. Accents are thicker. Fabrics are brighter. Bullets are plastic. Bologna is free range.

Will this new world accept my wet boots, grey hair and wrinkles? Well, the old one rejected my cheap moustache, glasses and winter hats, soooo… Fuck it.”

xxoo
Slob God
.
Today was the day when the drugs stopped working
The buzz disappeared to feed pigeons in the park
Blindfolded
Trying to find religion in the dark
Slob…
God blocked me on Facebook
I woke up with morning breath that could kill a zombie
Stronger than a gorilla
Rest in peace to Harambe
Dick out to get the piss out
Empty, awake and driven
Grabbed a can of Pepsi and ended racism
Grabbed two beef patties and filled the microwave with them
Then waited a minute
My brain started singing…

Today is gonna be the day that they’re gonna throw it back to you
I don’t believe in anybody
I don’t believe in anybody
I don’t believe in anybody
What’s anybody?
Fuck anybody

I loved anybody
I hugged anybody
I wanted anybody to hold hands and sing happy songs by Massari
Karl Wolf and Marianas Trench and Hedley
Sip Pepsi from Mother Theresa’s tits
Now all I do is wonder where the Reaper is
So he can pierce is scythe deep in you piece of shits
If Jesus forgives
I’m playing Jenga in the basement with Satan
Listening to…

Today is the greatest day…

And I’m the greatest
Yet I’m 37 trying to break in
I’m pathetic and humiliating
I remember being signed by EMI
At the desk of the president
Telling him I want to blow up like Kardinal
He pointed at a framed photograph of planet Earth hanging from his wall
I said – Cool, so what?
He said – Blow up?
Compared to that, Kardinal’s a sand castle on the beach
At the time, Kardinal was Canada to me
Sadly, I learned Canada was nothing but wet sand
Packed in a red bucket bought at Dollarama, dumped out at Wasaga Beach
Waking up to that was a tragedy to me
Slob
The point he was making was think Global
If NBC’s the king…why think Global?
This was way before Akon and Dangerous
This is not an insult, so don’t go and take it as one
And if you do, I don’t care
I’m done caring
Done treating pioneers like they was parents
When I started, other rappers couldn’t care less
Nobody predicted this white nerd from Northcliffe
Would double lap canuck rap
You didn’t want him in
Fast forward
You still ignore instead of honor him
So now I fight in a war that I don’t want to win
I don’t want beats that bite 40
I don’t want to sing
I’d rather jump off instead of walk the bridge
And that’s the only way I’ll fall off
How many fucking verses do I gotta spit
To drill the fact that I’m the illest in your braindead…
Chef Boyardee, Beefaroni, Brendan Fraser, Rick Moranis…
Moronic heads…
Slob Opera

D-Sisive x The Arkeologists | Sand Castle

slobopera.com

producer: The Arkeologists
lyrics: Derek Christoff

I don’t write raps, rhymes or bars
I don’t write songs
I write psalms
Slob God in a stained robe sitting on a drained toilet
Aiming a loaded
Homie, I came to throw gunshots
Can I touch something?
What the bloodclot
Opiate possessed in my mug shot
Fatty Arbuckle with the slight smirk
Rifle in my right grip
Bible in my left palm
Yeezus with a vest on
Rap’s Ginsberg
Trapped in the physique of Harvey Weinstein
Slapping Miramax interns
I don’t mop the mucus up
My name ain’t Mr. Belvedere
And I don’t live in Mac Miller’s Pittsburgh
I’m a David Miscavige miscarriage
The twentieth savage
I hid beneath the blankets watching rap turn Kravitz
I’m before Christ
Top 5 and B4-4
Like that boy band signed under the Sony brand
With frosted tips, bird beaks and the sex appeal of the holocaust
Only in Canada
Only in Canada
Disown me in Canada
Pussyclot…

Bright days and dark nights
Dick Graysons and Dark Knights
White glove slaps and swordfights
I rap like I’m Charlie Bukowski in bar fights
With brass knuckles hidden in my spandex
Like Ravishing Rick Rude
With your portrait airbrushed on my pants
That makes you frown whenever my ass flexes
I’ll turn you Futures into past tenses
Pussyclots...

I’m the fat, white Tupac repping the Red Wings
Pouring out some Hennesey for my enemies
Spitting on you rock stars trying to sell me dreams
Dollarama LA Reid’s 
Leaving messages at 4am
Playing West Coast in the background
Telling me you’re gonna blow me up
Take me out the Rivoli
And sell out every seat in the opera house
From the floor right up to the mezzanine
[mezz…]
As soon as the grants approve
As soon as the Factor grant approves
You can’t imagine what I plan to do
Only in Canada
Disown me in Canada
Pussyclot...
Contemplating war with dudes I was cool with before
We used to score together
Perform together
But…
A thug changes, and love changes
And best friends become strangers
Over married pussy
A marionette
I kiss you on the mouth and cradle your neck
You broke my heart, Fredo
You broke my heart
Pussyclot

I’m broke and broken
Hardly alive
I’m Rocky five
Sue me for what?
Nothing to lose
Building a spaceship out of a cardboard box 
A stick of dynamite and a couple of screws
To return where I belong like Buzz on the moon
If Drake’s Muhammad
I’m Chuvalo in Maple Leaf Gardens
In darkness
Alone with the ghost of Harold Ballard
With gloves tied
The bloods dry
Fighting demons in the basement while the sun shines
Regretting every drug tried
Fighting for a happy ending for this fucked life
To mom and father…
Promise you’ll protect my daughter
You did everything you could for my slob sonata
The award goes to…
Slob God in Slob Opera
Vaffanculo your mama
Slob Opera…

D-Sisive x The Arkeologists | Pussyclot

Recorded on July 12, 2018, for Poem-a-Day, a series produced by the Academy of American Poets. www.poets.org

Eloisa Amezcua: "Round 3"

Recorded on August 28, 2018, for Poem-a-Day, a series produced by the Academy of American Poets. www.poets.org

Douglas Kearney: "The Irregular and/or Anti- and Ante-Regulative"

Recorded on February 1, 2019, for Poem-a-Day, a series produced by the Academy of American Poets. www.poets.org

Rage Hezekiah: "On Anger"

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