CROSBY & COYA NOAH - GOTSOMEPHONK

Rain drop like a drop top
Mirror talk like swimming pool

Game changer I’m a hotbox
In the wide body like a living room

Locked box where the treasure map
Hopscotch where my treasure at

Karat pointer like a feathered hat,
Rock Designer suede my leather black


Midnight on my night time
Type writer I write time

Top floor from the pipeline,
Made a Tony hawk, skater lifetime

Air Jordan my flight time
Airport is my lifeline

Sky club where the stars fly, 
Had a hard time living like mind


I was never really like yall
Vibe wise I ain’t like yall

Bad vibe like python,  
Get me wiped down like Lysol

 

Reggie miller not the pine sol
Loudpack like siren on

Universal my alignment on, 
Why I’m Underground what my mind been on


Palm yellow on the golf course
Sunshine from the outside

Sunrise on the golf shore
Feel the breeze pass from the south side


Fireball rise an encore
Water tide turn a clock forward

Sunset not immortalized
Is there more to life on the top floor


Its all in front of us, love in abundance
Gotta lay back my head hope I done enough

The way back to the fridge a conundrum

Gotta count up the dead I’m a hunnid up


Might as well just zip line through the crib cause the lift wasn’t quick enough
On a trip when I drift im just picking up

Out the window like look what you done to him, 


I get money so I can have son and them
Have a life that’s worth living and longer than
What’s in mine even though it’s astonishing
I can’t even account my accomplishments

At the residence talking economics
Better posture the money preposterous

Cooking up by myself no accomplice, 
Made it from scratch then I branded like condiments

Got it all off the muscle I’m confident

Gotta balance my energy positive

Got a watch with the clock size of parliament
Open face not the rift I want oculus

Open wide like the front of a cardigan
Undercover Im in it anonymous

Incognito I leave got her puzzling
Where the hell could I be I’m in love with it


Clock tick tick tick time register 
Light flick flick flick like camera
Bad bitch get clipped flip camera
Get lit take pic flip calendar 

Lipstick no red this zaza
Take hit kwik trip no Wawa
Quick flip off ship Panama
When we land on the strip piñata


Rain drop like a drop top
Mirror talk like swimming pool

Game changer I’m a hotbox
In the wide body like a living room

Locked box where the treasure map
Hopscotch where my treasure at

Karat pointer like a feathered hat,
Rock Designer suede my leather black


Midnight on my night time
Type writer I write time

Top floor from the pipeline,
Made a Tony hawk, skater lifetime

Air Jordan my flight time
Airport is my lifeline

Sky club where the stars fly, 
Had a hard time living like mind


prod. @docent

Product of Minneapolis, Minnesota
8-27-24

Sky Club

GOLDWOOD & GARFUNKEL (CECILIA)

White Avenger/Shannon Sharpe [Lentra]

shouts to nine.two.
recording, mixing and mastering by Musicli @ Old Bill Studios.
artwork by HUEDAGOD.

@nine-two
@iammusicli
@sloppycereal

Gazing at the present in the past. 
Wonder if forever could ever last. It’s getting dark. 
Floating home n the street lights are flickering. 
Head full of bars and a frame slowly withering. 
Walk light feet tickling the bitumen
The sinners sitting covered in his cynicism shivering. 
Hence the heated discussions to warm his hands again. 
Frost bites the fingers still it’s easier to grab the pen
Than it is get up off his lard arse.  
To stand up and standoff with a hard stance. 
Half-hearted efforts; credence the clever ruse. 
If you choose not to listen you’d never know that you never knew. 

I wrote this for you x2
Don’t you know I wrote this for you?
I guess not. 

Still the ink dries quicker than he jots it down. 
Boulders on his shoulder still he’s colder when they’re not around. 
Forgotten grounds are where the memories are left… better blame the botanist 
For the way makes them hostages, and this rotting esophagus.
Clocking the obvious but what time is it? 
Now he’s got a mic to grip he’s silencing the sirens n the like that tried to stifle him. 
Fruits of his labor ripening; eyes widen at the sight of it still. 
Back on track like rehabilitation. 
Still a heathen in the making 
Dreams of demons in the basement again. 
Grotesque figures, bodies all contorted. 
Swam inside my thoughts till im forced to wanna forfeit. 

4feit /// nine.two

produced by chester 
https://twitter.com/chstrwtsn

3of3

acid residue

raikage x atlas / mt. marcy

fantompower on beat.
recorded, mixed and mastered by musicli @ Old Bill Studios.
artwork by HUE.

@fantompower
@iammusicli
@sloppycereal

gritting teeth. the sinner sleeps in novocaine.
pigment leaks, hidden cheeks from the focused flames.
frozen frame in her knowing gaze
to most, I’ve been closed off since the open day. 

too busy whipping dreams up for din dins.
housemates pissy he never clean up the kitchen. 
ditch the dishes to switch for swishes. 
courting on the court he be spitting to ya mrs. 

red handed - stigmata on the lords day 
lumber home tail dragging on the walkway. 
he only ever ate the gourmet in poor taste. 
now he gnaws on the corpse till the jaw aches. 

the old me. sold sleep from the dealer. 
cold feet, the soul weeps. need a healer.
i can be the feature... she can be the star for sure. 
in her golden fleece, it’s me her and the argonauts.

i'll be jason (a song for she) /// fantompower

it don't make sense ft. atlas prod. Wrona Da Beatmaker

nine.two on the beats.
artwork by HUE.
recorded, mixed and mastered by musicli @ old bill studios.

@ninetwobeats
@sloppycereal
@iammusicli

let the smoke dance pirouette in suns. 
he been a mess, given cess sitting kept in lungs. 
while the sinner wept and dribbled debt upon a page of a4
solemn days and shade like what is it we’re made for? 

remember when we’d meet and keep it illicit. 
speaking logistics, her day and keeping me in it. 
needed to live it just to get to see the chosen path for he 
who bleeds the broken artistry, haemoglobin harmonies 

and hypertension tetra chords drop out the vocal. 
float like the boats out in Constantinople. 
not nows for know-alls. time speaks of honesty
In tones dry of modesty. throttling the prodigies

clobbering the righteous. never understood
so they colonized the island with weapons for woods. 
Embedded in the bush he found hope in himself 
and wrote notes soaked in oaths I hope nobody tells.

walks /// nine.two

A Japanese Horror Film

Nujabes

deliveryboysmanagement@gmail.com
DELIVERYBOYSNYC

GOLDWOOD & GARFUNKEL (CECILIA)

GOLDWOOD (Delivery Boys)

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