Skeeter

Baton Rouge street rap, heavy knocking drums, sliding 808 bass, eerie high guitar bends climbing bar by bar, low male barked raw full-voice delivery with call-and-response backing voices and layered octave doubles, 94 BPM heavy lurch, dry upfront vocal mix with drums pulling back at the bridge before the full hook lands, ‑indie, ‑soft, ‑gentle, ‑sleepy, ‑lullaby, ‑whisper, ‑industrial, ‑trap hi-hat rolls, ‑drill, ‑mumble rap, ‑auto-tune, ‑vocal chops, ‑lo-fi, ‑EDM drop, ‑dubstep, ‑choir, ‑timpani, ‑gang shouts, ‑crooning, ‑breathy, ‑high light vocal, ‑talk-sing, ‑hushed, ‑legato, ‑silky, ‑thin vocal, ‑Soft Fire, ‑female vocals, ‑warm mid-range male vocal, ‑generic rap voice, ‑pop, ‑ballad, ‑cheesy, ‑piano, ‑organ, ‑R&B, ‑EDM, ‑sweet vocal, ‑comedy voice

[Hook: Dead-eyed Baton Rouge male MC, full drums, sliding 808 bass]
Small bites, small bites, you don't feel me land
Twenty here, fifty there, put it right in your hand
Whole block itching and they don't know why
Skeeter season, baby, and it's late July

[Verse 2: Dead-eyed Baton Rouge male MC, colder Baton Rouge bars, eerie guitar bend]
Big Rell needed rent and he came to me quiet
Twenty dollars, little man, and I didn't deny it
Then Boo needed gas and Duke needed a plate
Fifty, forty, sixty, never made 'em wait
Never wrote it in a book, never said it out loud
Every dollar that I lent got a face in the crowd
Every man that ever slapped me on the neck at the store
Came around in the spring and they came back for more
Little bit at a time so it never felt deep
Little bit at a time while the whole block sleep

[Bridge: Dead-eyed Baton Rouge male MC, drums pull back, sliding 808 bass]
Now it's August and the porch lights hum
And I'm walking real slow and here they come
Every head turn down when I pass on by
Every big man scratching, and he know why

[Verse 3: Dead-eyed Baton Rouge male MC, mosquito whine nears, a thin high guitar whine climbs bar by bar]
Hear that sound by your ear when you laying in bed
That's me, Big Rell, that's the note in your head
Every man owe Skeeter and the bill come due
And I ain't gotta swing, I just land on you
I ain't big, never was, I ain't need to be
Twenty years of you swatting made a bank out of me

[Final Hook: Dead-eyed Baton Rouge male MC, full drums land, Baton Rouge raw full voice]
Small bites, small bites, you don't feel me land
Twenty here, fifty there, put it right in your hand
Whole block itching and they don't know why
Skeeter season, baby, and it's late July

[End]

2425/7500

[Verse 1: Dead-eyed Baton Rouge male MC, low barked Baton Rouge bars, heavy knocking drums] They been calling me Skeeter since the second grade Little arms, little legs, little voice, little frame Always buzzing round the dice game, always in the way Every big man swatting at me every single day Slap on the neck when I walked in the store Shove at the court and they laughed at the floor I ain't swung back once, I ain't said a word I just smiled real small like I ain't even heard But a skeeter don't fight, that ain't how it works A skeeter don't bite you till after it hurts You don't feel it going in, you just feel it at night When you scratching at your arm and it won't sit right [Hook: Dead-eyed Baton Rouge male MC, full drums, sliding 808 bass] Small bites, small bites, you don't feel me land Twenty here, fifty there, put it right in your hand Whole block itching and they don't know why Skeeter season, baby, and it's late July [Verse 2: Dead-eyed Baton Rouge male MC, colder Baton Rouge bars, eerie guitar bend] Big Rell needed rent and he came to me quiet Twenty dollars, little man, and I didn't deny it Then Boo needed gas and Duke needed a plate Fifty, forty, sixty, never made 'em wait Never wrote it in a book, never said it out loud Every dollar that I lent got a face in the crowd Every man that ever slapped me on the neck at the store Came around in the spring and they came back for more Little bit at a time so it never felt deep Little bit at a time while the whole block sleep [Bridge: Dead-eyed Baton Rouge male MC, drums pull back, sliding 808 bass] Now it's August and the porch lights hum And I'm walking real slow and here they come Every head turn down when I pass on by Every big man scratching, and he know why [Verse 3: Dead-eyed Baton Rouge male MC, mosquito whine nears, a thin high guitar whine climbs bar by bar] Hear that sound by your ear when you laying in bed That's me, Big Rell, that's the note in your head Every man owe Skeeter and the bill come due And I ain't gotta swing, I just land on you I ain't big, never was, I ain't need to be Twenty years of you swatting made a bank out of me [Final Hook: Dead-eyed Baton Rouge male MC, full drums land, Baton Rouge raw full voice] Small bites, small bites, you don't feel me land Twenty here, fifty there, put it right in your hand Whole block itching and they don't know why Skeeter season, baby, and it's late July [End]

0/500