Wallow In Mud With The Baddest Drunk(Remix)

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V6-MINI

[Intro: raw festive urban hip-hop block party, sensual and flirtatious atmosphere, gritty low-income neighborhood energy, booming Roland TR-808 bass, punchy drum-machine groove, playful crowd chants, sweaty late-night street-party vibe, infectious and rebellious]
They say you ain’t toxic, ain’t usin’ no dope
Got your head on straight, got your heart full of hope
But them girls still look like you ain’t worth the scope
Like you ain’t the one that they really should cope
 [break beats full of impact, celesta minimal touch and heavy bass]
Roger got tickets, got powder to blow
He sweep ’em right up, yeah they go, yeah they go
You bring nothin’ but love and the truth that you know
But the shiny bad stuff always steal the show
[Chorus: intimidating deep-voiced rapper, rough gravelly voice, aggressively scolding, stern commanding delivery, angry spoken-rap tone]Yo, self-destruct instinct? Sixth sense? Nah, they don’t got none, muthafucka
They ain’t got that dark pull, my niggu, ain’t where they come from, bruh
Yo, that self-destruct vibe? Sixth sense? Nah, it ain’t their thing, muthafucka
They just tryna shine and live right, my niggu, that’s the realer thing, bruh [Bridge: magical bamboo xylophone and delicate celesta transition, tightly following the rap rhythm, hypnotic syncopated pulse, ethereal and transcendent atmosphere, gradually dissolving into a dreamlike otherworldly passage]
She don’t hit you back, she don’t give you no sign
Short replies, then she wastin’ your time
You chasin’ hard while she standin’ in line
With them fellas that mess up her whole damn design
 
You treat women right, you don’t raise no hand
You be the good man, you stick to your plan
But the game stay crooked, yeah it twist and it bend
Keep holdin’ your crown, you gon’ win in the end
[Outro: bleak 1970s Italian horror-film ending, cheap and ominous, deeply pessimistic and depressing mood, unresolved sinister tension, eerie analog atmosphere, distant echoes, decaying ambience, slowly fading into silence, haunting fade-out]

2029/7500

[Intro: raw festive urban hip-hop block party, sensual and flirtatious atmosphere, gritty low-income neighborhood energy, booming Roland TR-808 bass, punchy drum-machine groove, playful crowd chants, sweaty late-night street-party vibe, infectious and rebellious] They say you ain’t toxic, ain’t usin’ no dope Got your head on straight, got your heart full of hope But them girls still look like you ain’t worth the scope Like you ain’t the one that they really should cope [break beats full of impact, celesta minimal touch and heavy bass] Roger got tickets, got powder to blow He sweep ’em right up, yeah they go, yeah they go You bring nothin’ but love and the truth that you know But the shiny bad stuff always steal the show [Chorus: intimidating deep-voiced rapper, rough gravelly voice, aggressively scolding, stern commanding delivery, angry spoken-rap tone]Yo, self-destruct instinct? Sixth sense? Nah, they don’t got none, muthafucka They ain’t got that dark pull, my niggu, ain’t where they come from, bruh Yo, that self-destruct vibe? Sixth sense? Nah, it ain’t their thing, muthafucka They just tryna shine and live right, my niggu, that’s the realer thing, bruh [Bridge: magical bamboo xylophone and delicate celesta transition, tightly following the rap rhythm, hypnotic syncopated pulse, ethereal and transcendent atmosphere, gradually dissolving into a dreamlike otherworldly passage] She don’t hit you back, she don’t give you no sign Short replies, then she wastin’ your time You chasin’ hard while she standin’ in line With them fellas that mess up her whole damn design You treat women right, you don’t raise no hand You be the good man, you stick to your plan But the game stay crooked, yeah it twist and it bend Keep holdin’ your crown, you gon’ win in the end [Outro: bleak 1970s Italian horror-film ending, cheap and ominous, deeply pessimistic and depressing mood, unresolved sinister tension, eerie analog atmosphere, distant echoes, decaying ambience, slowly fading into silence, haunting fade-out]

0/500