Super quiet audio - sorry about that. JThank You for your support, whoever you are. love, -Ū.

I hate country music You know why? You all sound like slave owners. Yup. Country music just sounds racist, Well, it is racist. Even that shit was stolen— Country music is derived from the songs slaveowners used to steal from their slaves x Yes. I'm a sovereign submissive, A subtle subordinate Look at wrist Warm winds, SZA First stop, AH, fuck— Well, check this out No such thing as free. No such thing as freedom, either “Just take what you

Is it ironic To eat your Whole foods Hot lunch At starbucks– While your phone charges, Watch the homeless bums get kicked out; But not you– You're undercover You're the one let, Just a shelter dog at central par, No lost; Just not gone, And not God, yet Just not God, yet Not God yet (But God to someone, prob'ly– I promise.) So what? In the longrun, We're all God – Then all GOdless Suddenly, but Not sudden All you are Is All Gone Again {Enter The

When I first watched the coffee run- deadmau5 was just deadmau5 Deadmau5 is still just deadmau5 Keep telling yourself that. So what's the plan here. There's a plan. Haha. Very funny. I thought so. Where am I taking this thing? Just keep driving. “Just keep driving.” Don't act like you're not enjoying it. I really am— “Mad as Rabbits” Professor Pancakes! Yes. What have you done to this portal. Hehehe. >< Who are these

It's weird shopping for sex toys to Miley Cyrus in one ear and deadmau5 in the other. I don't know how to feel I definitely don't feel okay. I'm not okay. Where the fuck is sunni? I don't know Well, call him. Phone rings Uh—hello. Where are you?! I'm doing meth in your bathroom. Oh, come on. [toilet flushes] sunni appears from inside the bathroom I'm just kidding. What the fuck, man— It's just coke. —Of course. You want some?

It's him again. Oh, it's you again. Yeah. And I wore long socks just so you could suck my dick in them! Woah! Below the belt. Hold up! What! If I ever sucked your dick I'd roll those ugly motherfuckera right off, you weird sonofabitch. Mixes for my exes -Complications. The ‘-complications.' mixtape compilation series which focuses its internal monologue on the ideology of exploratory existentialism, using simple and classic mixing techniques into smooth transitions which

Bitch you mad? Mad at what? I'm still making money; I don't give a fuck Get my bag; Count it up I'm a dog— And you know I like it rough (Ruff ruff ruff) Where you from? Where you hood at? Keep it clsssy But I'm acting like a hood rat I'm a playa I got boss racks Call me north Cause I'm pointed where the moss at (Money) I am from Los Angeles I got all these fans and stuff I smoke on dat tangle I be at PINK buying bras n stuff I still shop at hollister The Bronx

It was was more than just a dream, I fiend, I fall for you I come to grieve, Believe me, Evil seeks no need— No things, no bleeding; Clean; Decline to eat And cease to be, At least a week {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project.™] COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2023 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. © -U.

Captain. Fuck! For what? Well, duty calls. Where have you been. “Away.” For how long?! “Forever.” Ugh. Well. [beat] See you never. CAPTAIN. WHAT. I have news. Where's my coffee. Here. [Hands off coffee.] This is cold. Well, it's old. How old exactly. [shrugs] About—100 years. [sips coffee again] This is awful. —but not instant. Here's to that. [sips coffee again] Ugh. [beat]

Never felt so alone1- But got God on my shoulder She's got art on her; Better send him packing. I'm not asking you for a favor I'm not asking for anything l l Call it a theatre or maybe insanity Cathedral or sanctuary, actually Maybe I'll finally be happy l l l Be between the lines Can't imagine what I'd find in you. Cover my eyes Is it over yet Calling me out Or I'm over it Under the Sun but another one, Wonderful world is unconscious The come up from nothin is morally

Mixxes 4 My Exxes Vol. I - FUCK DILLON FRANCIS. [CC launches a ficus across the room, narrowly missing D, J, shattering against the wall The neighbors in the apartment next door can be heard muffled through the wall. What the fuck was that?! AGAIN?! They're going to kill each other. DJ —I think you should go. CC I think you should go! DJ It's my apartment. CC Yeah, but I live here. DJ With me. CC Well, fuck you. DJ [staring at the shattered ficus vase and

I'm having a really hard day; I'm having a really hard time I'm having a really hard time— Yeah, I've lived a really long life Sometimes the truth is just.lies, Sometimes, I can't close my eyes I'm having a really long day I'm having a really long life I wanted to sleep early and rise closer to dawn, to of course get the most out of my day and make up for the one I had lost, wandering around hungrier than usual, dehydrated, and spinning round, wound up and feeling more than

What did fame cost? What would it take? What was I missing? And of course— ‘How do I get there?' I needed to know. {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project.™] COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2023 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. © -U.

Welcome to The Weekend Show with Mediumjay! Today I take off my shirt in honour of Bert Kreischer. I also talk about his newly anticipated movie “The Machine” as well as me getting back on instagram and releasing new music! New music links available here: https://linktr.ee/cashleaders Shirtless Video Version:

I wanna make dubstep. Dubstep. Yes. Why. Because. Why. I don't know. I just want to make Dubstep with my black girl magic. Half black. ...half-black girl magic. You can't. There's no such thing. Yes there is. No there isn't. Yes there is--if there's black girl magic, and i'm half black, then there's half black half black girl magic. Yess...but you can't use that to make dubstep. I can't. No. You can't. Okay...what....do I need to make dubstep?

The ‘-complications.' mixtape compilation series which focuses its internal monologue on the ideology of exploratory existentialism, using simple and classic mixing techniques into smooth transitions which mirror synconocities in time, musical elements, and lyricism to illustrate a vortex of collisions in cosmic omniscience, theming its recurring dominant soundscapes into a singular foundational focal point, and centering its multidimensionality into a gripping pull to return its emphasis on

Fuck Dillon Francis.

–AND WHEN I GOT THERE SHE SAID. MILEY WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS? SUNNI BLU IT'S YOUR FLOWERS! MILEY I CAN BUY MYSELF FLOWERS! [SHE ANGRILY TOSSES THE BOUQUET INTO THE TRASH CAN.] SUNNI BLU YOU ASKED ME! MILEY IT'S A CODEWORD. DON'T YOU SPEAK CODE? SUNNI BLU .;.I'M A RAPPER! MILEY WHAT KIND OF DRUG DEALER DOESNT SPEAK CODE? SUNNI BLU …I'm a rapper. MILEY Yeah! that sells drugs! SUNNI BLU —On the side! MILEY Speaking of on the

“She's going through my bag.” I thought to myself– the warm running shower over the back of my neck returning me fully to my body; It had taken something like an hour to return to myself– still within and yet so far out of my body, that the twisting and turning cosmic purple light of my natural aura became all of me, as, whisked away through space and time, pushed and pulled through all of the trauma I had endured certainly over the last few years alone, but the entirety of

{Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project.™] COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2023 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. © -U.