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Hip-Hop ERA |OT2| I Put the Fish in My Glove and I Freaked It.
- Thread starter Deleted member 5853
- Start date
- OT
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OP
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>:(
Those Gesaffelstein synths and King Louie's verse are amazing.
Rockstar, bitch, call me Elvis
M.O.B, she call me selfish
Success got 'em jealous
Shorty's killin', while I'm drillin'
Tattoos, how they break the news
Also, if you guys wanna check out some new Dutch heat:
At least listen to it for the fire beats.
At least listen to it for the fire beats.
i think my least favorite part of this thread is when ozzies post shit i can't listen to for two hours and i get super umad at myself for not figuring out which VPN service i should pay for. is Nord actually good or are podcast ads leading me wildly astray
speaking of Yeezus i feel like it's worth reiterating that a grand total of 1 out of 11 tracks have snares
speaking of Yeezus i feel like it's worth reiterating that a grand total of 1 out of 11 tracks have snares
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look forward to a Drake album in 2019 brehs
damn. everybody wants to work with the 🐐
damn. everybody wants to work with the 🐐
(you can actually pay them by sending in an envelope with cash and no return address since they use a number system lmao)
what stuff are you talking about that you can't listen to and why for two hours?
hell yeah that's the kind of seemingly excessive paranoia i want in my tech companies. and 5$ a month ain't bad, i'mma give this a shot
evidently release dates for music and games work the same way, so whenever someone from AU posts a spotify embed for a new album us Ameriplebs have to wait til midnight while our Australian homies get to listen to new shit. particularly torturous on thursdays and fridays. let me in LET ME IIIIIIN
Saw Westside Gunn, Conway and Benny in DC at Howard theater last night. I'm from Harlem, and honestly thought the crowd would be maybe like 100 folks. That shit was PACKED! Good to see DC niggas tuned in to the Griselda movement. Too many scrub openers, though. FLEE LORD rocked his set, however.
Yet again, it was another late, sleepless night in Atlanta. The studio was packed, yet intimate all at the same time. Warm amber lights washed over exotic leather furniture, creating a dimly lit sonic oasis. A sweet aroma of weed smoke clouded the air, while vanilla scented candles were strategically placed around the room. The mood developed into a haze of relaxation. As engineers and producers methodically worked the mixing boards, Future and the rest of his entourage nodded along to a rough take of a track that would later be called "Diamonds Dancing." Many individuals in the studio danced along while producers ran the track back, but there stood Drake in a dark corner, dissecting every piece of "Diamonds Dancing" with surgical precision. The track stopped playing, and Drake stepped from the shadows. He didn't speak much, but when he did, people listened.
"I'm going back in the booth, play that outro back."
Puzzled, the engineer began playing the outro instrumental back, not questioning Drake's demands. The room fell quiet as people began to observe. As the outro began to play, Drake put on a pair of monitor headphones, rubbed his beard and began to take a drink of a dark, murky substance. Closing his eyes, Drake began to flow freely.
"You doin' me dirty, you know. How we let it get like this I don't know. But that n**** can't save your soul, nah." Producers and entourage members in the studio began to look around the room to see if others were witnessing what was happening. Drake continued crooning into the microphone, while the mood became even darker in the studio.
"Doing me dirty, you doing me dirty. Haven't even heard from you. How can you live with yourself? Haven't even heard from you. How can you live with yourself? Ungrateful, ungrateful." The Engineer looked over to Future with concern. The engineer whispered, "should we stop him?" Future then put up one finger, as to silence the engineer while shaking his head, not taking his eyes off of Drake.
"Your momma be ashamed of you. I haven't even heard from you, not a single word from you, Ungrateful. I'm too good for you, too good for you. You should go back to him, perfect match for you, unstable." Candles in the studio began to flicker and die out, one by one, as if a spirit swept throughout the room.
"Doing me dirty. You're making me nervous. I haven't even heard from you. You look drained, you look exhausted, girl them late nights ain't good for you. Really starting to show on you. Don't hit me up when it's good for you. Ungrateful." By now, everyone had stopped what they were doing, all attention was focused on the darkened silhouette in the recording booth. Finishing up his final thoughts, Drake hung up the headphones, took another sip of muddy water, and crept out of the recording booth.
As he came back into the studio, all eyes followed his every movement. Drake retreated back to his shadowed corner, where he leaned against the wall with his fingers interlocked and pressed against his lips, as if in deep thought. The silence of the room created an uneasy tension. The uneasiness built more and more, as studio members waited for him to speak. Finally, he broke the silence.
"Play it back."
"I'm going back in the booth, play that outro back."
Puzzled, the engineer began playing the outro instrumental back, not questioning Drake's demands. The room fell quiet as people began to observe. As the outro began to play, Drake put on a pair of monitor headphones, rubbed his beard and began to take a drink of a dark, murky substance. Closing his eyes, Drake began to flow freely.
"You doin' me dirty, you know. How we let it get like this I don't know. But that n**** can't save your soul, nah." Producers and entourage members in the studio began to look around the room to see if others were witnessing what was happening. Drake continued crooning into the microphone, while the mood became even darker in the studio.
"Doing me dirty, you doing me dirty. Haven't even heard from you. How can you live with yourself? Haven't even heard from you. How can you live with yourself? Ungrateful, ungrateful." The Engineer looked over to Future with concern. The engineer whispered, "should we stop him?" Future then put up one finger, as to silence the engineer while shaking his head, not taking his eyes off of Drake.
"Your momma be ashamed of you. I haven't even heard from you, not a single word from you, Ungrateful. I'm too good for you, too good for you. You should go back to him, perfect match for you, unstable." Candles in the studio began to flicker and die out, one by one, as if a spirit swept throughout the room.
"Doing me dirty. You're making me nervous. I haven't even heard from you. You look drained, you look exhausted, girl them late nights ain't good for you. Really starting to show on you. Don't hit me up when it's good for you. Ungrateful." By now, everyone had stopped what they were doing, all attention was focused on the darkened silhouette in the recording booth. Finishing up his final thoughts, Drake hung up the headphones, took another sip of muddy water, and crept out of the recording booth.
As he came back into the studio, all eyes followed his every movement. Drake retreated back to his shadowed corner, where he leaned against the wall with his fingers interlocked and pressed against his lips, as if in deep thought. The silence of the room created an uneasy tension. The uneasiness built more and more, as studio members waited for him to speak. Finally, he broke the silence.
"Play it back."
OP
OP
Yet again, it was another late, sleepless night in Atlanta. The studio was packed, yet intimate all at the same time. Warm amber lights washed over exotic leather furniture, creating a dimly lit sonic oasis. A sweet aroma of weed smoke clouded the air, while vanilla scented candles were strategically placed around the room. The mood developed into a haze of relaxation. As engineers and producers methodically worked the mixing boards, Future and the rest of his entourage nodded along to a rough take of a track that would later be called "Diamonds Dancing." Many individuals in the studio danced along while producers ran the track back, but there stood Drake in a dark corner, dissecting every piece of "Diamonds Dancing" with surgical precision. The track stopped playing, and Drake stepped from the shadows. He didn't speak much, but when he did, people listened.
"I'm going back in the booth, play that outro back."
Puzzled, the engineer began playing the outro instrumental back, not questioning Drake's demands. The room fell quiet as people began to observe. As the outro began to play, Drake put on a pair of monitor headphones, rubbed his beard and began to take a drink of a dark, murky substance. Closing his eyes, Drake began to flow freely.
"You doin' me dirty, you know. How we let it get like this I don't know. But that n**** can't save your soul, nah." Producers and entourage members in the studio began to look around the room to see if others were witnessing what was happening. Drake continued crooning into the microphone, while the mood became even darker in the studio.
"Doing me dirty, you doing me dirty. Haven't even heard from you. How can you live with yourself? Haven't even heard from you. How can you live with yourself? Ungrateful, ungrateful." The Engineer looked over to Future with concern. The engineer whispered, "should we stop him?" Future then put up one finger, as to silence the engineer while shaking his head, not taking his eyes off of Drake.
"Your momma be ashamed of you. I haven't even heard from you, not a single word from you, Ungrateful. I'm too good for you, too good for you. You should go back to him, perfect match for you, unstable." Candles in the studio began to flicker and die out, one by one, as if a spirit swept throughout the room.
"Doing me dirty. You're making me nervous. I haven't even heard from you. You look drained, you look exhausted, girl them late nights ain't good for you. Really starting to show on you. Don't hit me up when it's good for you. Ungrateful." By now, everyone had stopped what they were doing, all attention was focused on the darkened silhouette in the recording booth. Finishing up his final thoughts, Drake hung up the headphones, took another sip of muddy water, and crept out of the recording booth.
As he came back into the studio, all eyes followed his every movement. Drake retreated back to his shadowed corner, where he leaned against the wall with his fingers interlocked and pressed against his lips, as if in deep thought. The silence of the room created an uneasy tension. The uneasiness built more and more, as studio members waited for him to speak. Finally, he broke the silence.
"Play it back."
Where's WATTBA 2?
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It's been a bit since I listened to WATTBA, so I chose to relisten to it today and wow, "Diamonds Dancing" is such a banger.
That KTT meme is on point.
That KTT meme is on point.
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