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The Loop

by Chill Bump

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1.
The Eponym 02:24
In 95 when my father was still alive, Hip-Hop hit my heart and I started to feel the vibe. I’d listen to Nas spit rhymes too damn correct. I can’t forget my doggystyle and my wu-tang cassette. See, I was only ten, holding a pen, hoping to find schemes, writing over and over again. At 13, I had a crew, we’d flow and hang out, and that’s how I started rapping with the homie Bankal. He went his way and I went mine. He switched to turn-tablism, I perfected my rhyme. A decade later, we met again and said « what up ? » We gotta get together and tear the stage the fuck up ! Oh Boy ! These kids so cool. The beat’s so deep, the flow’s so smooth. Mic check, one two, one two. They came to rock, to rock the house for you. We ain’t about enterprising or dough making, but we wanna say thanks to you folks for donating. Peace to all the reviews and dope ratings. For those that bang they skulls to this ’til they dome aching ! Thanks to y’all we gon’ keep feasting off emceeing. We gon’ keep performing, beat-making, beasting for a reason. Peace to all you people, Eastern European, Swedish or Norwegian, Aussie, Asian, even North Korean. France, Germany, US and the UK, Africa, Mexico and even kids from Uuguay. Chill ou and bump this, ‘cause this is a new day. And haters : We couldn’t give a shit’bout what you say. Oh Boy ! These kids so cool. The beat’s so deep, the flow’s so smooth. Mic check, one two, one two. They came to rock, to rock the house for you.
2.
Alarm clock buzzing, I smack the snooze button. I choose to relax and do nothing, get up in the afternoon, fuck it. I laugh at you suckers busting your ass for loot like absolute muppets. I hang with rappers and cool rastas, abuse absolute vodka, get smashed like a true rocker. Drive after the zubrowska, Shoot past a few coppers faster than Schumacker. I used to get smashed in the school locker, Now I do shows, and hoes flash me they two knockers. Rock on - Always keep accelerating. Every day I party and fall asleep at 7 am. Celebrating. (Celebrating) Celebrating, my little life as it lasts. I love my life, I’m living every minute like it’s my last. I’m fucking Young, I’m strong and I’m tireless. I’m high on sex and my broad is a lioness. While you normal guys take orders behind a desk, you’re always replying yes - I’m sure that you’ll die of stress. I record and write songs, my office is my adress. I am my own boss, I’ve always got time to rest. I am blessed. (This is just a sample… of the life I lead) Listen bro, this is freedom. I hit the road, head for a distant region. I kill a show, leave the whole venue screaming, then I’m heading home, grinning, feeling like a different being. Rap’s my sport and identity, performing’s my therapy, I’ll always rhyme merrily ‘til I’m 45, steadily. I’ll definitely tour ‘til I’m 70. And when I’ll be exhausted, I’ll always find energy ! (This is just a sample… of the life I lead)
3.
Verse 1 : I was designed to spin you the finest tracks, I’m thin, my skin is a shiny black. Yeah, I am wax. I hibernate in my crate and I relax… Waiting for the perfect life, for my band to sell me as merchandise. Fourty fans wait for me in line. I ain’t even been heard but I’ve already been signed. Off I go, I’m so so lucky. I’ve found me a home and my owner loves me. I spin ten times a day. He grins and sings while I play. But one night, my owner throws a party. gets stoned and I’m stolen by somebody. Please, help ! I’m all by myself, Covered in dust on a stranger’s shelf. Damn! Hook : Why d’they take me away from my home sweet home ? Damn, I wanna go back. Verse 2 : Twenty years have passed since I’ve been strayed. I’ve hollered, I’ve cussed, I’ve begged and I’ve prayed, My cover’s colours are beginning to fade. I’m smothered in dust,‘cause I never get played. One day, I’m stuffed in a box, With busted up kicks and ugly clocks. Exposed at the market for the customers’ flux and I’m sold to a chump for a couple of bucks. Taken home to be frantically handled, his hand pulls me back, I’m scratched and dismantled. My new owner hacks up my tracks like a vandal, My piano notes get extracted as samples. He uses and abuses me, glues me to a beat, spews a few gooves with me, two or three. when I thought we were just getting started, he takes me back to the market… Hook : I can’t wait to return to my home sweet home, ‘cause I’ve traveled a lot. Verse 3 : Once again, I’m out in the cold, exposed on the market, waiting to be sold. Far from home, feeling abandonned. A random man grabs me and I’m examined. He buys me whilst rubbing his palms, and calmly wanders off with me under his arm. I must’ve gained value by today ‘cause he put me up on eBay right away. When will this shit stop, I’m pissed off. quickly bought again and then getting shipped off. But this time… to a known place. I’m opened and see my owner’s face. He sees the autographs, sheds a tear, we’ve both got old, it’s been over twenty years. He gives me a spin, sings to my tracks. Damn it feels good to be back… Home ! I’m so glad I returned to my home sweet home, Back to where I belong. (the loop spins round)
4.
Pointerlude 01:52
5.
Life’s a game, who’s ready to win ? Who’s ready to face the true devil within ? Are you ready to fight when you step in the ring ? Step to the right, move left and then swing. Learn from every bruise left in your skin. When Time Flies, shoot lead in it’s wing. Seasons spin, loops end and begin. When the tables turn, you lose everything. Don’t cling to life, life is too complex. You’s a useless speck sliding through the nets. To the right and to the left, you slide from one cycle to the next. Use your head, try to do what’s best, best be cool : Use the time that you can get. Let the present guide your future steps. Defy death and die with few regrets. I’ma keep it real… (I’ma) Eat, drink, leak, shit, fuck ‘til I feel fulfilled… (I’ma) Chill ’til I drop and a motherfucker reads my will… (I’ma) Stick a middle finger in the motherfuckin’ reaper’s grill. He can yield! Survival is a vital sport. Don’t lose time with suicidal thoughts. Don’t torture your mind, life’s too short, quickly consumed like the lines you snort. The present is all that exists. It ain’t for nothing they call it a gift. No tomorrow… Tomorrow’s a myth. Live now : Just follow the drift… (To the right/To the left. Fro one cycle to the next)
6.
I laugh at life, keep cracking my jokes. I cannot panic, cry or get mad if I’m broke, won’t be sad to die from the packet I smoke, won’t quit when cancers attacking my throat. Fuck Healthy diets, herbivore lies, You jerks at the gym that work on your size. I prefer to eat nothing but burgers or fries and die an early death than live a third of your lives. Fastfood fanatic, I’ma keep on eating, even when my heart or arteries are streaming. Even when there’s a solid Stream of grease in my veins, making it hard to keep on breathing. I don’t care, I’m young and I’m unaware. Call me childish, I’ll just cover my fucking ear. Fill my cup with another beer… ‘Cause who can truly guarantee they won’t be gone in a couple years ? Yeah ! I used to sip a few forties at new years… but now I need more than a few beers. There’s always excuses, pour me a brew : « Cheers ! » Pour me four little shooters in the morning like who cares ? And I never sip sodas… I drink twenty coronas, leave no left overs. The goal is to get less and less sober, let my soul give in to the devil on my left shoulder. I drink more, feel less drunk, and that’s funny. My body reacts like : « I’m unimpressed dummy »  Yes sonny… I’ve got less and less money ever since the bar tender has become my best buddy. I get home late, sleep on the couch with my clothes on, I’ll soon get kicked out my house by my own mom. Why use my head ? I choose to beg, beg guys for food, but buy booze instead ! Fuck yeah ! Fill your belly with junk, spark an L or a blunt, party hard ’til your heart gets frail and it jumps. Y’all should always yell and get drunk before you end up like everybody else : body smelling of skunk. Feel that adrenaline, I’m never gonna pipe it down. Live for the present’cause your life is now. We’re all destined to die somehow, so quit being scared, stare death in the eyes and smile before bugs and worms turn in your guts and squirm. I don’t wanna be burried, I don’t want a urn. Brother, please cremate when my bodys stuck and firm : We don’t need no water, let that motherfucker burn ! Don’t yearn, don’t cry when I’m a goner, don’t remember or honor my name and petty persona. Just scatter my ashes wherever you wanna, role me up and smoke me up like I’m marijuana. One.

about

Bankal (Beats) + Miscellaneous (Voice)
EP #4 : The Loop
Enjoy !

credits

released December 4, 2012

All songs produced, written and recorded
by Chill Bump at "The Eighth Lab" in Tours
Illustration by Rebecca Fezard

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Chill Bump Tours, France

French rap duo.
Miscellaneous on the mic / Bankal on the beat.

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