Secrets

ScHoolBoy Q X Jem Cretes "Hustle 101" Mixed by Ali & Jay O

Acapella from Black Suicide

LYRICS:
[Chorus: BONES]
Too fucked up, I'm seeing static
Two more cups to feel the habit
My, oh, my, I work my magic
My, oh, my, I gotta have it (SESH)

[Verse 1: BONES]
Die in the moonlight, I do it
You don't wanna do that, I'm ruthless
Cut off the top, now we roofless
Chains on my neck, make her turn like Judas
'Til we come around, now they bow like Buddha
Roll too deep, no need for the two-door
Nothing I can do though, they don't wanna listen
We done made the blueprint, baby, peep the vision

[Bridge: Scrim]
Steady ridin' low, eyes steady swole
Feel like death row, 1994
$uicide tears, drippin' off our mothers
Bullets in the chamber of the pistol in the cupboard

[Chorus: BONES]
Too fucked up, I'm seeing static
Two more cups to feel the habit
My, oh, my, I work my magic
My, oh, my, I gotta have it

[Verse 2: BONES]
Running at the mouth, go and talk that shit
Chrome double-S, double park that bitch
Got no time to waste, let me spark my shit
Money in my face, I don't want a cent

[Verse 3: Ruby Da Cherry]
Ridin' 'round Texas in a Lexus with a Florida license plate
Outta state, eating grapes, blowin' dank, no yank, bitch
Dry as fucking weed
$lick, havin' a panic attack with the Mac on his lap and now he makin' beats
Smurf in the back tryna get some sleep
Gas tank on E, not a stain on me, sunset, cool breeze

More mashups:
https://on.soundcloud.com/MjcrDMFXa1vuWJyC9
https://on.soundcloud.com/Xto5dwYoMYDJQshT7
https://on.soundcloud.com/hkRGLdcHpedFVUdh9
https://on.soundcloud.com/jGgwH
https://on.soundcloud.com/eUv1F
https://on.soundcloud.com/rGesu

BONES, $uicideboy$ - Silverado (Mashup)

Beamer Benz or Bentley

Southern Tennessee’s most enigmatic outlaw voice, Yung Rust, drops his long-anticipated debut single, “Creek Water,” a menacing blend of Southern Gothic storytelling, lo-fi trap grime, and rusted Americana. Evoking the haunted cadence of $uicideboy$, BONES, and early Memphis horrorcore, this track sounds like it was pulled straight from the bed of a shotgun-scarred pickup truck abandoned in a kudzu-covered holler.

“Creek Water” opens with ominous analog hiss and drops into a swamp-thick bassline, backed by grainy 808s and field recordings that echo through the Appalachian hills. Lyrically, Yung Rust weaves a tale of rural survival, outlaw pride, and spiritual decay—with verses soaked in moonshine, blood, and smoke.


CREEK WATER

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Hatebonds

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