by cunabear

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BearTooth Collective presenting: "m00kie" by cunabear.

"This collection of songs were mostly written on the road, during my first tour. At the time I hadn't fully come to understand that we were literally traversing the majority of the U.S., and coincidentally my father's health was starting to deteriorate, my closest friends were beginning to move away and pursue their own lives; the uncertainty of what I'd be coming home to was becoming more and more apparent, as was the uncertainty of what was approaching me directly every day for the month of May 2017.

This stream on consciousness and conversations is my taming of the beast. Traveling the country performing my music for strangers has changed my life, and I'm in the process of learning exactly what that means.

I hope you enjoy this free tape of contemplative songs.
Thankyou for listening."

Dedicated to Earnest Sunder Dass, for everything and always.


released June 30, 2017

Vocals and Lyrics written, recorded, & performed by cunabear.

Track 1 (Measure 1) produced by TVPES.
Tracks 1 (Measure 2), 2, 4 (Measure 1), 5, 6, 9, 10, produced by sp00ks.
Track 3 produced by Profound.
Track 7 produced by HAZARD.
Track 8 produced by Jay Debussy.
Track 11 produced by Ethan51.
Track 12 produced by V.A The First

All rights to their respective owners.



all rights reserved


cunabear Tybee Island, Georgia

Patron Saint of Patron Saints.

Jazzy, lascivious, psychedelic rap.

EPK: beartoothcollective.wixsite.com/cunabear

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Track Name: Womp's Fortress
(Say hi to moms for me I'm swimming out to sea)

The flamingo tattoo on my arm covers up these mangled inner body parts
Like a patch on a broken soul, clean shaven on the sides
Used to laugh and fancy his older man a soul patch

One day he'd grow a bolder back
One day he'd hold a bowl to pack and watch his fingers park the sun on a conveyor belt with non-stop strange vibrations

Thank god we've all grown blacker as a nation

Food for (white people) keeps some dogs lost without a trail to sniff
We used to riot in the streets now we let the introverts study poetic text and continue trying drying lips to water already slipped between the cracks in my skin

And down into the endless abyss just like religious texts predicted
Not a plate left unbroken in the kitchen
(Nobody's home)

Curved dancers like a million little tendrils waving gently at the ceiling fan with their whole body expressing communion through dance while imps are prancing up the bohdi trees
Picking wompa fruit from the twigs and leaves

Then disregard the fruit itself
Known only purpose useful to see the home grow
Watch the orchard flourish in the blink of an eye
And no matter what you believe when that nigga Jesus comes you'd best be off to testify than face the fire

I find peace in helping my homies eat
One less corpse found in the street
In the end we stay okay, okay?

Feast your eyes on the display
We work for what we've got
We don't got much but we're okay, okay?

A boy
A bear
An insecure awkward golem with moss for hair and simple cares gets pulled out by the shifting tides and buried out at sea
Underwater he fosters fish who flee from following their fellows

I find peace in helping my homies eat
One less corpse found in the street
In the end we stay okay, okay?

Feast your eyes on the display
We work for what we've got
We don't got much but we're okay, okay?

I place myself vehemently upon the highest rung
Just clinging onto the bar for comfort
Taste the wind that slightly alters my balance
At the junction where my heart began to miss your lungs, and how they stress and relax

With no gumption

I caught myself overthinking small lectures given in the underpass
Refusing to let the tantalizing parts of you persuade me to cause an uproar

Cause who knows what'll happen when I flip this

My heart aches
My thought hurts
My fingers twitch
My loins itch

What would an abomination like me do on an island where nothing but freetime is how you draw the line

I've never been one to start fires
I roll up in solitude
Not to smoke but to watch the lighters spark
I love the heat produced beneath my thumbs as I imagine what's become of innocence

Perceived as lost but more re-appropriated

Chronicles of a hip-hop hippie who writes raps mostly to play taps on the bars of the cell from the outside with underlying pride

What's a bride to a self-defined corpse
In Corpus Christi I learned how to build walls of love around my tiny fort
Shit's mad impressive isn't it?

I wanna sit upon the highest rung
On purpose

The remainder of this tour is to adjust my future focus
Not to focus on the future, but I'm scared
These sacred texts won't commit to comment on the hocus-pocus that evokes me to provide closeness to the priestess

I feed my homies well of that semi-potent patronage
Right before I slip off the edge
Track Name: Drinking Drauger's Blood
On this endless stretch of battered pavement
Watch me waver

I who calls upon my neighbors
Comfort, guidance, labor
A fingertip dipped to simply taste and savor

Remind my mind to remind me to remind my mind to remind me
(Remind me to remind my mind to remind me to remind my mind)

Wake up on the floor for once
With no movement but forced thought
I'm blacking out
I'm conscious
Watch my body lose its balance
Fall for eons
Seeking solace in self forgiveness as the glass hits

And again
Here I am conscious
Watching what my habits have wrought
I broke my heirloom
Single precious object
No more is there such permanence

Materials make and break again

I scoop the pieces of this thing I love amidst the drauger's blood and say damn you fool look what you've done

I broke my hope and kicked my crutches aside
Faced the roaring tide and screamed I do not act but do not fear you
All you think I lack is pridei
All I truly lack is guidance
All I truly am is guidance
You judge with closed eyelids
Without mine closed most nights I can't survive this

Watch him lift all souls and divide up even amounts of kindness
Despite how blind
He trusts that love is never a denied gift

Yet here I sit
Higher than those with more privilege
Watching you and yours try to revive dead experiments while I add multipliers to my experience

And I tap the mic twice to make sure you're still hearing this

Are you still here?

Are you still in this?

Are you still with us?
Track Name: Summoning Spells For The Emotionally Impaired
Your boy ain't much more than magic, scruff, and fairy dust
More or less at the same expense it doesn't amount to spending much
I grew these bones myself and birthed my voice a more meaningful gruff

Find me in a haze
Normal more on warm and rainy days
Keep the 404 tucked away in my sleeve
Aesop' garments add plus 10 to my steeze
One puff and my weights lighter than trees
Two puffs and my high is higher yet, please

Count your victories and tailor me a gentleman's suit in seafoam green
With accents in a sexy pink and a kodiak mink to match, whatchu think?
I stray from bitches when their visions are bink
Cuna just a poet and that's all he lets them think
When they finally get to witness first hand my second form

A holy light burns doors down
Demolish your stuck-in-this-small-town syndrome
Clowns well read, red and rounded while tramps scamper 'round the tourists
Burn the witches at the entrance to the forest so the poorest farmers don't ignore it

Get me off this fucking island
Find the truth a mind read around the world's that scroll across my eyelids
I'm reside on an elevated astral plane
They pay to watch me demonstrate exactly how I levitate

Calling all members of the council
Safety Meeting and News Announcements
We're approaching the end of this chapter
Calculate for unknown factors
I'm on the brink of space and time
Or somewhere online losing my mind to the instant gratification
Taste all my vices at once and begrudgingly embrace them when it seem's no paths adjacent are worth apply patience
Track Name: Gnarled Root
It appears that I've gone too far
I think I've lost my mind

I might
This time

Forbidden Fruit
Gnarled Root
I fought the heavens

We rose
We flew
We fell

I stood on the edge of the continent
I conversed with the grand leviathan

But it appears I've gone too far
I think I've lost my mind

The Gnarled Root
Track Name: Girl Scout Cookies
Superb Super-Cuts in the kitchen
A bounty on that ego gives me something to believe in
I'll hold a giant by the frilly pink leash then
Mince your meat for free
Plebeians applied beef gratuitously to tacos for the weekday morning feeding bins

Glorious they called the boy
Boisterous they called the noise
Let your soul take this maybe fill the void
Tiny Tim playing with big boy toys

Faded and facing away from the hatred
Adjust my placement on the playhouse placemat
Shaped like the greatest
Kingdom adjacent
Imported my royal ring finger from that foreign comfort sanction

Fending off the munchies
In a snuggie
Eatin' Pollo
Month to month I'm bumpin uglies with a stranger from the North Beach
Burn one in the name of Mononoke
Praise be to Ghibli
Show me what the symbols mean

I'm flying higher than a stoner full of helium
Better prophet than a medium
Acrylics are the medium
Fuck your ears up better than your favorite lover thinks he does
I'll banish demons from this seedy club with an ounce of love
Curb stomp 'em into ash and dust
Never catch me smoking seedy buds bud
Stomach vile plumes of grub
Smuggle ideas more than drugs
Build empires out of IKEA broken parts
That's all before I release the doves

Break my bones
Before the dial tone
Express my muffled moans
Behold my rusty soul
I increase my life 10 fold once all my homies homes are sold for yellow bricks and fool's gold

Upon preparing for the rough voyage we stocked the cabins with our spoils,
Drugs and women and all-natural coconut oils
Hoist the sails
I spy a maelstrom about a quarter mile out
Best advised we take a different route

Swimming solo dolo through this rollout
Pulled muscles from not pulling out on the couch
I'm pouncing bitches from a crouched position
Pinned on the ground to flex you into submission
And that's after receiving your carefully sought out permission

Color-coded yokels gather in droves to the center of the mechanism

The plateau of local knowledge has begun to spill his boat-full of boastful pseudoscience and begs for your calm compliance
Hi miss

My name is potential energy
(I erupt into every socket and turn the lights on temporarily)

Absorption of the culture to share and grow my sacred powers rapidly
(Uncannily similar to certain positive attributes of anarchy despite acting out revolutions casually)

From atop this crooked lighthouse all I see are foreign faces
Dilapidated spirits pilot mechas with savagery and vengeance towards the kaiju that approach the city from a distance with no mission
But I ain't bitchin'

Across the streets beneath me are the scattered pieces of my main thesis
Trust no nigga but pull on no trigger
Spread much love, baked as fuck from eating girl-scout cookies baked with girl-scout cookies for fun

I consistently exhibit hard-earned, life-long love
The title is 'm00kie' and The Code named him 'cuna'
Track Name: Hypno-Trigger
Gather up your groceries
I've been feasting on mad veggies and flexing my health graciously

Crossing time lines and time zones just to watch my artwork unfold from the 2 dimensional mold
Basking in the brilliance of the bayou country where these damned sneezing fits keep hunting me and haunting all my memories

I'll swap intelligence with the local pterodactyl cops reading tarot cards with tact until I'm certain on how to act with skill from this side of the veil

Effectively affecting how you choose to proceed and effect your golden path with steeze

Truth be told
The Truth ain't common
I'll scale a magic mountain down to fit inside my pocket and ascend to the highest of heights when your favorite rapper thinks they're stuntin'
Takes a million different strangers clicking like, love, share, subscribe to feel like you've finally accomplished somethin'

And that exists at any angle from which you attempt to push the button, pumpkin
I try to focus on a separate set of conundrums
Like how to fumble the globe and still entice the freedom fighters to no longer remain silent

Pull the hypno-trigger on my gadget-gun and rejoice at the literal ideal of true free will as the anarchists reign supreme and take whatever they want

I was born between tectonic plates and cause massive shifts in the shaping of the earth with every step I take
Yet I'm still so weary to wake and rise from bed

Trapped in the cornucopia of safe-havens and narrowed down to the list presented before you in burgundy on the Day of the Dead
Sit by the dock of the bay on a full-moon's night and feel the presence of spirits singing hallowed negro spirituals until the tide rolls back in
Track Name: Kodiak
And I'll

As we

Torn asunder from the history that beseeched your clan
Under the protection of a zombie king sky-man

No man's not a martyr for a bomb-flower garden unless they give it passage with sacred pardons

And all I've read of are erroneous starving artists who've been painting the Pilgrim's Progress from a flawed perspective
Direct injection into black lungs

Sores burst with pressure and call for faulty promises of "smarter not harder" worker-bee chronicles to render the operator of the Father-Droid over-encumbered

Faulty parts outnumber the working ones
Gears rust and send dead nerves belated Valentines with bubblegum from foreign lands meant to serve in the place of proper function

In the name of love we act, but still too scared to do something

Somebody place the patriarch on a pedestal
This giving soul is deserved of recognition and a statue built of the world's most honest and humble materials

Warm hugs, no judgement
A spoiled-sport from ceiling to floor well-earned from working for what he wants, needs, and
Forever serving friends, foes, and families with more than he can afford
Usually of no Count's count and acting of his own accord

One of the only people I truly hope gets to meet the Lord
I'm holding hope that heaven exists especially for him
If there's any left over it's meant for you and yours

Blessed is an earnest man
Track Name: Tybrisa
I've seen folks in every city that resemble my closest friends
Stumbling strangers in tree-blossom openings wandering

Aimlessly or not, amidst simply chillin' and the over-looming strength of systems clicking in unison at various humans

Loose and lugubrious as they fashion craftsmen to fashion nooses
When either perspective is known to merely exist only when you choose to view it

But don't you dare forget

It remains active even when the game is off and burdens the virtuous through sociological tutelage invoking choosing "Whose 'who's' is this?" To permanently screw onto the lid

In Portland, I was sent to view the city scape's saviors behaviors from a silent ledge surrounded by greenery while climbing down the mountain path that lends my persona to a vagrant stare

Bare my face to the wind that nearly blows the cap off my lid

Ink jettisons perpetually from the straggler-squid's residence
Present my findings to the public with a stomach full of zeal and zest through stoney, depression-ridden debts
Riddled with clueless-riddles based purely on dusting off the family crest

Open my old toy chest and find the costume called "A Synonym for Nostalgia" and call your mom when your mind stops racing
Or when your heart starts to get sweet on a tart taste of living

Simply swooning off the Henny as I'm skating down Tybrisa
Bend me towards the sunset as I climb the highest peaks and take a piss off the balcony while telling tourists to piss off from the balcony
Swirl another swig for your deceased

It's hard for me not to believe the amount of kindness you'd receive from my kind of love would certainly be the death of me with added haste & actuality

But it seems to be the life I want to lead, & if that's the way it has to be, then I supposed that's how I'd want to leave.

Past, present, or future
Please promise me you'll get home safely

Rest In Peace
Track Name: Magic Truffles!
I'm spyin demons
Park the jeep
Watch em creepin from the darkness
Watch a nigga put that ass to sleep in his sleep

And I won't make a peep

I am not a deity
I am nothing more than I appear to be
Apparently a semi-mortal man

Eating magic truffles with my rusty defective Midas hand

Watch me throw this pocket sand
I'll pull the rug out from beneath your mans
And lay my line out in the same sand
Before a stranger comes to shake my hand

I shake my fists towards the crowd and watch em cheer as I disappear before them


Reappear as normal as can be
In line for Chinese take out because the show was boring

Not a warning
No wars fought once you enter these doors
I'm known to keep the peace and spare a match to light your torch
Smoke a doobie on the porch with a floosey smokin' loosies with the homies

I hid my home inside the paintings that align these walls
I stay a man full of flaws who breaks musical laws and teleports between these castles just because

Home is where the heart is
Heart is where the art lives
Art is what begot this

A prophet for no profit but if you cop a CD then we'll bump fists

I ate a bag of pixie dust for brunch
Turned my brain to play-doh and I compressed it into mush
Flew over the rainbow and found a bag of OG Kush

I make it last for 40 days and 40 nights

Cuna got the verbal display
We eatin off this mixtape dinner plate
Designed to assimilate and congregate so we can contemplate this smorgasbord

Better look out
I'm comin for blood
I built a new arc
Prepared for the flood
The turn of the age
Shift focus to love
Give enough up
You'll get back in dubs

Slurping' chicken noodle soup
Dispelling demons from the coup
Appointed leader feed the meter
We roundabout and ally-oop
Surplus knights fight life for life against enlightenment
Gas me up upon a pedestal when I speak profoundly of new confidence
I used to show off resonance
Now I understand home exists outside your residence yet I'm still lacking the coordinates
Lord of lisps whispers solemn secrets from his lips and the spell caster increased my lifespan by about a grand

Send only peace out to you and yours
Kicking out windshields and painting on walls
Bears attack the city-slickers
Calling all cars
Evolve before your eyes into like 30 different forms and catch him bumpin' in your dormitories

Watch the metronome dissolve as time keeps tick tick ticking
I swear one day to stop slip slip slipping
Blood from my nose still drip drip dripping
Just a taste of being blessed
Enough to not break my back towards another, bigger man's paychecks

Better look out
I'm comin for blood
I built a new arc
Prepared for the flood
The turn of the age
Shift focus to love
Give enough up
You'll get back in dubs
Track Name: Bear, Himself
I smoke two blunts to the face before I fly off to save the day
For no man does Time wait
But Tom weighs weights on these toms so the rolls sound great when the pads play

Carve a new Nile with apathy towards the swan songs these ugly geese sing
Praise be the dragon slayer whose bounty you bring
I ring the New Year in without my homies

20 fish for every 2 men in need of feeding so don't say I never gave a
fuck for your feelings
but nigga
fuck both your feelings

I'm ill, sickly & prepared for the reeling
Layered thick and falsely accused and assumingely peeling back when the people make contact

My twisted kinks pour royal blood down the kitchen sink
Before you blink I can alter how the offerings speak before they find Valhalla
Bet a bigger dollar
Better pop my collar for the ladies and hope it still swings when the crowd's still stu-stu-stuttering
Imagine how the world made of moonsand would feel from 20,000 leagues under me

It seems the wheels don't crank no further

Giants made men to carry off the bigger burden of knowing

Bear himself known to bare himself upon the stage with plastic wealth
Got a million extra hands to help
and a million dollars never felt so ruthlessly important in the eyes of the shred-or-die conveyor belt
That's live my own life
That's live or let die
Let sleeping bears lie
Spread love, no lies

Matthew was my title when they raised me up
A minuscule raisin dried tired and bakin' in the sun
Hailed by some as the chosen one
But that's an offer I can't speak through
My intentions are plain and see-through
My maneuvers are mad lethal
My freedom in need of a sequel
Tired of breaking the locks and finding no substance behind the keyhole
Teach me to cleanse evil with the same knife I use to cut my seafood

Grub on mushrooms for lunch in a mu-mu
Lookin like Count Dookie-Duku stepped in poo-poo with the new-news and fucked up the Pupu-Nunu pissin' off witch doctors with Voodoo powered by mad mojo, fruit-juice & unholy Juju

(It seems the wheels don't crank much further
Seems the wheels don't crank no further
Seems the wheels don't)
Track Name: HER pt. 2
I wanna make you breakfast everyday, girl
I know you hate it cause it's thick but I love the way your hair curls
Deep chestnut warmth on that skin sends a hellhound straight to heaven, cause yeah
All dogs go, too
I know I'm already the go-to but I wanna be the one greenhill you roll through
We don't need rings either
You still let me go super
Flying through the ether

I wanna tell you that I love you and feel your heart skip in time with mine
I wanna be less socially anxious so I can take you to the ballroom
And we don't have to dance if you really don't want to
I know you only dress-up or dress down when you really want to
You make me swoon, and attitudes like this from me are often left diluted and mute

Monotone if anything
Monophone to hear the beat
It thumps louder than my heart and leaves my vision bleak
I cut ties with all my vices except weed words tits and sleep, but curries ties with you, between the truth and how I feel, leaves no mysteries for Scoob & Crew to super-sleuth

I wanna succumb to the feeling of love
It's a feeling I love and bare too openly
Regardless of reciprocation
Everything before this was just extra to taste
Icing on ice-cream cake

I have no way with words when it comes to you
Cliche terms exposed and performed as unspoken words and complex terms
I want slightly rewritten before my signature's procured.