We’re back on that sluggish shit. Churning against an full moon of garbage, turning the terrestrial into something greasy iridescent under some 2 AM alienated American moonlight. Something about Mutant Joe and JAK3 creeps down the back of my spinal cord, like an overpowering feeling of dread, preempting a slip into the gutter. Fucking up Yamaoka chords and leaning against the fence links to reflect. There ain’t no doubt, we’ve got some dirty, grotesque hip-hop here. Hacking and slashing, hot in pursuit through a swamp of beats.
If you can’t move fast enough to escape, keep it to a shamble. Fuck around in bog, contravene sense, and roll with the lofi occult.
More about: JAK3, Mutant Joe, YVNCC
