Downtempo lofi beats for the late-night grind. Updates every Wednesday with popular tracks in Central Asia.

pov: it is 2am and you are studying

street walker

Original Release:
March 28, 2025

Mister Morgan - "Only You (Instrumental)"
Produced by: G-therz

Westsidin' (Instrumental)

Released by:
Rood Man Records

©2025 Rood Man Records

Westsidin' (Instrumental)

Only You (Instrumental)

Mister Morgan - Only You (Instrumental)

Quiet Lofi Contemplation

echoing raindrops

Wrote some 🔥 lyrics to this beat? Ready to turn it into a full track?

💸 Purchase this beat here: https://bsta.rs/TYkRB7
🎵 Check my BeatStars page: https://www.beatstars.com/LzaPunky

Immerse yourself in the smooth, melodic textures of this R&B type beat, inspired by the emotional depth of artists like SZA, Drake, Frank Ocean, and The Weeknd. This melodic R&B instrumental blends elements of trapsoul, sad R&B, and modern smooth R&B styles, creating the perfect vibe for heartfelt vocals or laid-back rap flows.

Whether you're looking for a free SZA type beat, a Drake type beat, or just something with that signature smooth beat energy, this track delivers. It's a soulful mix with the spirit of a Frank Ocean type beat and the feel of a Tory Lanez slow jam.

The free version of this beat is available for non-profit use only (YouTube/SoundCloud with no monetization). If you plan to distribute your song on streaming platforms or use it commercially, make sure to purchase a license first.

🎹 Beat Details:

- Key: C# major
- 82 BPM

Perfect for fans of rnb, trapsoul type beats, and anyone searching for a free (non-profit) beat that brings real mood and emotion.

Thanks for watching and don’t forget to subscribe for more 🔥 beats like this smooth SZA beat, instrumental trapsoul, and more.

[Freestyle] R&B Type Beat x Sad | "Broken Loop"

smoking in a shed with your homies

Koi Pond Loops

Asakusa Glow

Onyx

This is my last Electronic album, which I add some low-fi in my electronica plus I wanted to add a slightly darker vibe as well as lighter vibe. This EP comes full circle combining all the Electronic elements from the last 2 albums before this 3rd and final EP.  

Toss Up

Glow

Hey there! This video is the culmination of hours upon hours of work and a passion for Pokémon. Although I'm not old enough to have played them close to release, I grew up on the old games nonetheless, and I have a special connection to them. I hope you like these beats! Comment which is your favorite, and let me know if you want individual uploads of any of them :)

Art by @kiwi.sausage:
https://www.instagram.com/kiwi.sausage/


If you like my content and would like to support me, feel free to buy me a ko-fi!:
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Soundcloud:

Cinnabar Island

Album Music Videos: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_DB6rTW1nEo&list=PLymNA9M985DgVuEZkgQMVel6v54ZiHZ_E
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Drown distraction in rain‑lit lofi beats—perfect for late‑night study & deep focus.
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Aya curled her fingers around a chipped porcelain mug, the steam fogging her glasses as rain braided silver ribbons down the café window. Old Kumo City’s crooked lanes vanished into mist, leaving only the glow of rain-lamps—teardrop bulbs strung on sagging wires that shone brighter the wetter they became. Their honey-orange halos pooled in every puddle, turning the street into a trembling galaxy of tiny suns.

She opened her sketchbook to a fresh page. The blank paper shimmered under the lamp’s reflection, and for a heartbeat Aya thought she saw a pulse behind the page —as if it were breathing. She touched her pencil point to the center and drew the faint outline of a gateway: two weather-blackened pillars crowned with tangled wisteria that dripped rain like beads of quicksilver. Each pencil stroke felt less like graphite and more like tugging thin threads out of the falling water. When the final tendril of wisteria bloomed, the sketch glowed ember-soft, then burst into quiet lavender light.

The café around her stretched, smeared like wet paint, and Aya felt herself slip forward—through page and window and lamplight—into weightlessness.

She landed in an abandoned metro tunnel where the tracks floated several inches above the gravel, loose as ribbons in unseen water. Bioluminescent mushrooms crowded the sleepers, caps wide enough to shelter two people, their undersides dripping neon-green spores that drifted not down but up, filling the air like reversed snowfall. Somewhere far away a single wind chime sang one clear note, and the spores shimmered in sympathetic ripples.

An origami crane unfolded from shadow. Its paper wings were ink-black, but its eyes glowed citrate yellow. With a quick tilt of its head, the bird launched itself forward, flapping in slow, deliberate arcs. Aya followed, her footsteps whisper-light on the hovering rails. Gravity felt hesitant here, as if deciding every second whether to stay.

The tunnel curved, walls widening into a cavern lit by moonlight that had no source. Cracks in the stone let thin waterfalls bleed upward, threading through the air toward some invisible sea overhead. Whenever a droplet brushed Aya’s skin, kaleidoscopic patterns blossomed in her vision—mandalas of jade, magenta, and cerulean that folded into one another like living stained glass. She let herself drift, each breath thick with petrichor and possibility, until the crane slipped through a circular archway rimmed in tiles that pulsed faint electric blue. Aya stepped through and the world blinked again.

Wind rushed with the scent of wet cedar. A colossal corkscrew tree stood before her, its trunk spiraling toward a sky smeared in dusk purples and dawn blues at once. Around the trunk coiled a bazaar in mid-air—suspended balconies formed from giant lotus petals, each petal lined with stalls. Air-fish glided between vendors, translucent bodies flickering oranges and pinks, casting watercolor shadows across drifting banners. Bells chimed from every direction, their notes weaving together like threads on a loom.

Fox-masked merchants beckoned Aya with wave fans painted in shimmering ink. She explored slowly, fingertips skimming glass bottles that held clouds, marbles that contained sunsets, lanterns harboring sleeping fireflies. At one stall she paused: a tiny vial labeled Memory of Tomorrow rested on a velvet cushion. The merchant behind the table—tall, cloak stitched from scraps of midnight sky—did not speak. Instead, he pointed at Aya’s sketchbook.

Onyx

Mist.Arts

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