Crumbs

by Chill Bump

/
  • Streaming + Download

    Includes high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more. Paying supporters also get unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app.

      name your price

     

1.
01:46
2.
01:57
3.
02:01
4.
02:04
5.
01:36
6.
02:06
7.
02:02
8.
02:02
9.
01:57
10.
02:11
11.
12.
13.
14.
15.
16.
17.
18.
19.
20.

credits

released November 25, 2016

All songs produced, written and recorded by Chill Bump (Bankal and Miscellaneous) at the Eight Lab in Tours, France

Mastered by : Mike Marsh at The Exchange Mastering Studios in London, UK

Artwork : Rebecca Fezard

tags

license

all rights reserved

about

Chill Bump Tours, France

shows

contact / help

Contact Chill Bump

Streaming and
Download help

Redeem code

Track Name: One
One

The Harsh Realities of Life... x4

Some say life's a bitch : woof woof. If that's the stupid truth,
I'll slap her booty red, attach her to a bed and I'll use a noose,
bruise her head badly, bang her through the roof,
and do her doggie til I get charged with animal abuse.
Alive and living. I've been a hard-headed villain
ever since I saw death in a car wreck collision.
From bars, wreckless drinking, from hard sex with women
and getting tatted like a walking talking art exhibition.
Listen : I just want the amazing life that Jay-Z has,
with planes, Mercedes, Jags, ladies banging me to lazy jazz.
But rap is tough. I have to hustle like a crazy ass.
The most underrated is what you can rate me as.
I'll take these jabs, you'll make me bleed but you won't make me spazz.
I'll wait then choke you, you like Conor facing Nate Diaz.
My dad passed before he got to 41.
That's when I knew noone's important or immortal son.
We're all just crumbs and me I'm only in it for the fun.
I came to spray the audience with champagne in water-guns.
And when I go, I pray to God my friends pour me some
gin on my grave like my name was Jim Morrison.

The Harsh Realities of Life... x2
Track Name: Two
Two

Take that... Take that... Take that...
Take that and rewind

Turn this up, it's automatic.
You're my puppet, my pure fanatic.
Gots to have it. Yep, you're an addict,
always avid and all ecstatic.
You want it Bad, it's your naughty habit,
Tripping, feeling like you're on acid.
Call this hash cause you're calm and placid.
You wanna puff it, and wanna pass it.
You are my slave,
moving my way, do what I say,
music vibrates I use it like bait,
Your pupils dilate and you dehydrate.
But I can use it to unify,
to unite him, her, you and I.
And I can use it to beautify,
take a motherfucka on a groovy ride.

Take that and rewind it back x3
Take that and rewind...


We got pot to blaze up, lots of vapor.
We connect folks like operator.
Puff and pass it like hot potato.
Shots of Jager's like shocks from tazers.
Now you feeling like Schwarzenegger.
Bass banging it cannot get greater.
Stick a finger up to your knocking neighbour.
Laugh when the motherfuckin cops invade ya.
Fuck what the pigs finna find.
This tracks addictive,
who gives a shit if they give you a fine ?
This that shit that gets you going,
that sticks in your mind.
Gotta bring this back,
gotta play this fifty to sixty more times,
and ricka ri ricka rewind...

(Scratch)

Take that and rewind it back x3
Take that and rewind...
Track Name: Three
Three

I... recall being young and depressed.
I... would get beat up in recess
I... started rap when I was a weak mess
I would rhyme to evacuate unreleased stress.
I... got good, left Mama's sweet nest
We... then toured, got money, we blessed.
Now... my broad got double D breasts.
We in the club poppin all the bubbly left.
Now - We got passport stamps and visas.
Now - When we land we got fans to greet us.
We just hang with mean ass bands and divas,
smoke grams of weed up til we have amnesias.
Now - we get tanned on sandy beaches
Now - eat grand and fancy cheeses.
relax in suites that are damn prestigious.
Too late bitch, you cannot have this penis...

stupid...
You could have blown me but you blew it.
Stupid...
You could have blown me but you blew it.

You... used to set true barriers.
You... Acted like our superiors
You... never took us too serious.
I... could really feel a fool's weariness.
We... shine and tour now you cheer for us.
You... even buy a few beers for us
What ? We meant to be friends ? Well, you clearly just
Fools... hypocrites and true idiots.
Yeah bitch, you now adore me,
but when I was a child you'd doubt me shorty.
You ignored me when I was wild and horny
When all I could share was an ounce and forty.
Well fuck y'all sevens, I'm out of your league.
I'm with seven tens now in crowded Orgies.
Getting blown when stoned on tylenol 3.
Living life to the limit. These rounds are on me !

Stupid...
You could have blown me but you blew it.
Stupid...
You could have blown me but you blew it.

Scratch
Track Name: Four
Four

I know this globe's not in my control
I go with the flow, go by what I know.
My soul tells me nothing's impossible...

Wish I had a genie, wish I had it easy,
wish I had a mansion, suite and lamborghini,
wish I had an island in the caribbean.
that I had a time machine to travel freely,
that the people switched off their tacky TV,
that the beefs on this planet had a treaty.

(wish I had, wish I was, wish I did, wish I could...)

Wish that violence weren't a motherfucking thing.
We stuck, we suffering, it fucking sucks us in.
The "ugly duckling" finna knuckle up again,
because some cop finna uppercut his chin.
I wish we loved our brothers, loved each other's kin
and didn't judge cause of the colour of our skin.

(wish I had, wish I was, wish I did, wish I could...)

I know this globe's not in my control
I go with the flow, go by what I know.
My soul tells me nothing's impossible.
(If I could I would and if I can I will.
I know one day my wildest wishes will be real, I...)

Get men to get along,
and share belongings when they bond.
Give wealth, give health to everyone,
help helpless men win marathons :
Paraplegics with medals on !
They won, they feeling mega strong !

(wish I had, wish I was, wish I did, wish I could...)

kill the politician and his phoney plan,
kill the silly concept of owning land.
kill the borders, countries, yep the whole shebang,
give the power to the lonely homeless man,
give him hope and tell him he can overstand,
find him love, someone to hug and hold his hand.

(wish I had, wish I was, wish I did, wish I could...)

I know this globe's not in my control
I go with the flow, go by what I know.
My soul tells me nothing's impossible.
(If I could I would and if I can I will.
I know one day my wildest wishes will be real, I...)
Track Name: Five
Five

Bitch, you got a lot of balls for a small no name.
You're so lame. You claim you God, you Kanye on cocaïne.
Yo, you will not blow my mind bitch, I am not Cobane.
Your dame is known for blowing sacks, we call her John Coltrane.
You sling hashish in back streets, count cash off bitches ass cheeks
in backseats of flashy whips, you finna give pigs a bakchich...
(Trash) You rap to get the mass to think you're nasty,
but you're snitching on your own silly ass, you Brendan Dassey
and we ain't shook, (Why ?) because you ain't Suge (Knight).
Who would write about their crimes besides the fake crook (type ?)
You like to pose with broads for a facebook like
while I bang broads and can't recall what their face look like.
I pipe your wifey like a (hoe), slap the bitch and chant (yolo).
I like her and tapped her twice like an instagram photo.
You can rip my damn polo, snatch my silver Han Cholo
but you can't hate on my game or diss a man's mojo.
So get angry if you want, kid, I won't get the damn popo
but don't lift your hands (bro), your fists they tend to land slow mo.
I'm a Skinny man but when mad I'll whip your fam (dolo),
stomp my soles on your throat and stamp a Timberland logo.

word to the motherfucking tree on my Tim x4
Track Name: Six
Six

Lord, I stopped believing in you.
I stopped believing in you.
Oh Lord, I stopped believing in you.
I stopped believing...

Before you said let there be light,
what were you doing with your life ?
Priests grip their crucifix's tight,
preach about peace but people use that shit to fight.
You created everything but who created you ?
You sent your son to suffer like an animal ?
Lord, I stopped believing in you,
but this song's for the people that do.

Does he have fortress up in the sky ?
Can he transform and solidy ?
Is he a broad ? Just a force? Something energized ?
Is he Black or white ? Can he talk and identify ?
Would God let your children die ?
Would y'all let him do it? Y'all sure ? Well, just tell me why ?
Tell me the truth. I know they taught you to never lie.
Maybe you believe cause you were forced and you're scared to die ?
Huh ? Fools finna shoot an arm
at a man just for painting God in human form.
Dude, come on. If we die, and we move beyond,
why would you deserve heaven ? Why would you belong ?
If the dead could talk, they'd probably tell you : You are wrong ?
That you are foolish to believe in this stupid con
used against you to enslave and control.
It ain't faith when you just playing your role...

Oh Lord, I stopped believing in you.
I stopped believing in you...
Oh Lord, I stopped believing in you
but this song's for the people that do.
Lord, I stopped believing in you.
I stopped believing in you.
Oh Lord, I stopped believing in you.
but this song's for the people that do.
Track Name: Seven
Seven

He left his mother-land on an ugly note,
hugging his luggage close on a rubber boat.
He lost his wife, a soldier cut her throat.
He lost his life and watched his home going up in smoke.
Those you love the most could vanish in a few seconds.
Who wouldn't choose to pack up and find a new setting ?
There he was, head spinning, feeling sad and nauseous,
on this small boat with no provisions, feeling mad exhausted.
When he approached the coast he had to act precautious,
but got captured by the forces with their flashing torches.
Escorted back and insulted, he had a fair run...
Back at home, back at war, back at square one...

He left his mother country for the second time.
He arrived, greeted by people in a line
"Go Home Immigrants !" written on their picket signs.
For some when you try to survive you commit a crime.
He made it past the cops, now he's in Europe's hands,
crossing borders, hiding, heading up north, across the land
to end up trapped, emprisonned in one of them awful camps
behind barbwire, stranded in the north of France.
Hated and pointed at by Euroupean governments.
Every day extremists came to insult him and rub it him.
But he didn't listen to fools screaming. So used to their own freedom
they'd even forgot the true meaning. He got :

Hope - when you ain't got nothing to lose. You got :
Hope - you ain't in that position to choose. Your need :
Hope - when you just wanna keep your civility.
a piece of liberty, some peace and stability.
Hope - when you ain't got nothing to lose. You got :
Hope - you ain't in that position to choose. Your need :
Hope - when you just wanna keep your civility.
a piece of liberty, some peace and stability. Hope.
Track Name: Eight
Eight

No normal light in weeks.
It's calm inside them sheets.
You got garbage piled in heaps.
In an awful sty that reeks.
You're always typing tweets,
on forums fighting geeks,
on porno sites for freaks
and their falsified physiques.
Fuck real broads and trying to meet
cause then you're obliged to speak.
The less you talk the better.
No real life, no pressure.
Phone Inside your dresser.
You not inclined to dress up,
get out, then fight the weather.
Cause inside is better.

Cause you're living inside your very small bubble.
No stress, no worries, no pressure or trouble.
Nobody to bother or hurt you.
Your reality is virtual.

Second life, fake persona.
You log-in and then make lasagna,
serve 2 plates on your date with Tana,
log-out, play the new Drake/Rihanna.
Then you order a fake vagina.
One that says made in china.
You use lots of saliva
and the lube bottle beside ya.
Ding... Text from lil Caesar
Ring ding dong... Your breakfast is pizza.
You relax and rest with your feet up,
eat half, put the rest in the freezer.
then you sip on a large soda
while you sit on a soft sofa.
You eat, shit, then palm your hard boner.
Next day you'll start it all over.

Cause you're living inside your very small bubble.
No stress, no worries, no pressure or trouble.
Nobody to bother or hurt you.
Your reality is virtual.

Log-in, Log-out
Same shit, different day...
Track Name: Nine
Nine

Check this punchline fest. You Suckers hit the deck.
I'll uppercut your clique, I'll cut their frigging neck.
This ain't nothing but utter disrespect.
I'm cussing at you like a motherfucking trucker with tourettes like
"Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you", ain't nothing you can do.
I'm punching through your crew, punch a punk through the roof.
You just a bunch of squares, a bunch of rubik's cubes.
I'm rapping circles round you fools like a fucking hoolahoop.
When I insult you, don't you dare reply.
I'm dope, I know cause my homies never lie.
Emcees try bite me but can't flow as well as I.
That's why everywhere I go, I hold my head up high.
I don't write bout the life that I don't really know.
That's why I write bout treating your wifey like a silly hoe.
I rhymes right in her ear, slide inside her kitty slow.
Your dime rides my balls like a Miley Cyrus Video.
Hoes love me now they know that I rap.
These Bitches snap pictures with me and they pose in my lap.
But don't act like you know me, notify that !
I'm big headed like Pharrel in his over sized hat.
I ain't that rapper whose fat chain flashes, but my chat game mastered.
I attract dames and tap they asses.
They come and see us and they bat they lashes.
They give brain to bouncers for backstage passes.
I travel first class, sip Champagne glasses,
So I'll die like a champ the day the damn plane crashes.
Mixing pain-tablets and brews and have me a snooze.
I'ma control-freak, I'll die how I actually choose.
The day I pass, dress me in a Tuxedo.
Wish me luck people ! God '´ll be like fuck me though !
He wants me to shovel shit, since I've done evil
and he'll reincarnate me into a fucking dung beetle. What !
Track Name: Ten
Ten

R.I.P Christopher Wallace

When I die, fuck it I wanna go to hell,
cause I'ma piece of shit, dwelling in my lonely shell.
It don't make sense trying to find my holy grail.
I'd rather smoke an L, bone a skank and grab her poney-tail.
God'll probably have me stop my foul behaviour.
No more lounging, wasted, faded in a cloud of vapor.
Hanging with the crowd of angels, purging in a perfect world.
Fuck that shit, I wanna slurp gin and flirt with girls.
All my life I've been considered as the worst,
I'd feel my dick in church, fingers under sisters' skirts.
I live but in reverse, cursed... I'm an anomily.
Mum probably wished she'd practiced sodomy or swallowed me.
She don't even love me like she did when I was small.
She should have used the pillow way before I learnt to crawl.
Someone tell my loved ones I ain't even worth the brawl.
I took my money out the bank and fucking burnt it all.
I wonder if I die will anybody cry.
I don't wanna know, I wanna go that's bottom line.
The stress is building up I can't... Shit, I can't believe
suicide' s on my fucking mind. I cannot breathe.
I swear to God it feels like Death is trying to squeeze my throat.
My demons keep on choking me, shit I don't need a rope.
I need some coke, I need a load of weed I can smoke,
needles with dope, til I'm deseased from a seizure or stroke.
See, when they burn me, line my ashes up and snort 'em.
Don't act like you care, cause my ass is unimportant.
And... I'm sick of brothers lying, I'm sick of bitches squawking,
Matter fact, psssh... I'm sick of talking.