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tr0glodyte​.​BurialGround

by ( 'i's ) X cunabear

/
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  • tr0glodyte.WisdomStone - Limited Edition Cassette
    Cassette + Digital Album

    Hand-Dubbed & Presented by BearTooth Collective.
    w/ Alternate Artwork.

    Tapes come packaged with:
    - A random Magic The Gathering Card
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  • tr0glodyte.WisdomStone + Zine
    Cassette + Digital Album

    Hand-Dubbed & Presented by BearTooth Collective.
    "tr0glodyte.BurialGround" w/ Alternate Artwork.

    Tapes come packaged with:
    - A random Magic The Gathering Card
    - A download card for "tr0glodyte.BurialGround"
    - "ursa.cuna.majora. 1st Edition." - 34-page Zine/Artbook

    Includes unlimited streaming of tr0glodyte.BurialGround via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.

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1.
intro 02:40
"Intro" I'm chillin' in the cut cause it's timeless Wind up in the mechanisms underbelly Eyes of the Shine Pray at the shrine Divine and tangible smelly skeleton man Scourging the land as fast as you can Describe to me with rigidity how similar you are to these mannequins at task managing I collected all your affairs in a briefcase to be discreet and sent you inoperable to the business meeting Gleaming gleefully at the very idea of dismantling your personal Pangea later this evening Disrobe each construct one titty at a time Lie about the lifeline unless the pig is fueled with sloppy dollar signs I'll remain heavenly levels of high above the skyscrapers while hecklers scrape hellish city streets for a short liftoff (Criss-cross... Criss-cross... Criss-cross...)
2.
And in the end, we were all just humans.. drunk on the idea that love, only love, could heal our brokenness.
3.
“sat in the rain for about 3hrs for some unknown reason” Kings spend their lives surrounded in material gleam Born and cursed by material beings Buried eternal by material things Resurrected as materials for being Magicians & Charlatans break bread and dull blade ends over education of the unknowingly known All the best super powers are negro-proof Boy Speak when you talk You spillin' dribble on your bib and shaking hands And serving plates I glimly turn away while hiding a snide pouty face Feels like I'm trampling through Midgar again Searching for a church to lay my burdens down in Nerdy skullkid ever searchin' for the Giga Homies in a 3 foot Materia-pool Won't you baptize me? Won't you baptize me? On the blackest of nights when the king kills the fool I'm drowning in industrial smog either way If it doesn't kill me the smoke will just heal me up So beam me up I said I've had enough Won’t you baptize me? Snogging children losing interest in the foreplay by the fireplace In that black lace They wanna fade til the hairline's a myth And bangarang until the next spliff is lit or a seizure hits Stompin' out a roach quick Watch the vitals violently squish Administer sin to pull the pin and explode in endorphins It's a cycle once trifle now porched in and domestic I cradle the perfect weapon and sell intelligence to the dead-drone I'd rather die than be lonely and I'm a lonely motherfucker Posing naked for art is like posing naked, for art, and my arms are getting tired Rusty pistons cant keep holding this position I've got a deck of cards full of respawning Monster Reborn's Casting thorns in your tender brush and those dead teeth Stay reekin' steeper than a teabag of reekfish oils
4.
tentlife 02:33
Peace In this nylon kingdom we smoke swisher sweets I'm clamoring with a wizard's beak at the futile mountain Giants who shriek Back like children speaking out of turn Make em grab they own switches Paddlin' their asses Two for sass and two for flinching Dig a ditch for your petty causes And quarter your squires in the court for attempting to compromise the mission It's clear that growth and expansion is the only point in exchanging coin for poignant points of view In what other context would a fool consider a stranger's words to be the truth? I took a blood oath where the oakflesh grow That cold bath in the lifepool Feel bold when denouncing balderdash I preach to a choir of blind followers and deaf admirers too busy trying to draw break lines in my cypher than decipher this holy Thu'um of mine First of his kind in this, any, and all lifetimes Watch the sculptor adorn the sepulcher with many an ill scripture Written in the time before time for all the times you lack a cure for all your automated addictions My state of being is attrition against a white man's operating systems They attribute my destiny to no rest with no sleep And no pay for 4 weeks We plunder in secret while they sleep And ponder the world within while attempting to break out
5.
“untitled part 2” Arctodus Simus Wear hat pins like a gym badge A player above all the riff raff Inherited red tendencies and blue genes Rarely speak to anyone Caught exploring everything Cuna here then gone Rather right than wrong Like the wind songs sing of old sins Thrusted forth from the trash bin Repurpose and reposition Dish out soapy flows and scrubbing dishes ‪Y'all know I rap rites of spring right?‬ Lemme bless your whole shit with This here Elixer Soup You foul git, You With a Holy Owls wit ‪Too many hippies spilling half-truth pseudospiritual juice on my white suede shoes‬ No substance in the peephole despite the correct key, yo
6.
melon 06:04
“melon” Sweet Smoke Like anointment of the self in something temporal Tapped into this time portal Isolated into the cage you Go Osmosis from within seeking answers on the outside to cure your temporary without Clout clouds the crowd in a haze of toxicity Enveloping your every achievement Approaching the Zenith And confused as to where else you thought you'd Seen it On the way up seent clowns on the way down sporting the same alpha's confident smile White pure and perfect Teeth meet pavement when relations become enslavement And you probably forgot the juggernaut also swings For you Armed from your personal armoire of expedient experience Applicate appropriately when the miasma is wrung from the sponge above this cityscape On the days where you feel you simply can't relate Sometimes it's better this way Sometimes it’s... Evil Festers then falters off the skin in flakes Sweep it a ways beneath me Even divine beings manifest opposing beings Just as the light that shines within is Capable of two stones thrown The question remains to say "Which way will you face today?" the wind will do the same blowing each toke of that.... Sweet Smoke It's Matty Mayvin the Mystical Here to provide these hatred-spewers with proper etiquette and principle Money weed and fame aren't that fucking important, you imbecile That's why there's always too much or not enough to go around It comes in waves of active and dormant Hide the spare key to a grander scale of importance beneath the door mat No more woe is me's from the pulpit Please To be a black man is a grand adventure Most rpgs make you a social justice warrior so I was both born and bred to be the chosen one You were just informed of my forces Lead by the four horsemen we're confiscating all power sources and you gasped like children Prodding the specimen from outside the containment glass And only kissing Mother Nature's ass when those fed by your hand bite back during a preplanned sneak attack And you can catch me cacklin at your whack asses again and again I'm dreaming like Feeney that one day I'll raise the next set of chosen ones to succeed me Cops these days All bite No bark All rabies Hogs killing dogs and hoisting all their bacon-babies to trade their slop for confiscated glocks and pop shots Pop shots Pop shots like Grease burn marks on your tree bark
7.
“zzzebra” I seen that troglodytes were buried in these woods homie They built their own society Supposedly The black mages themselves live deep in this endless forest The dwarves have never seen em So it’s Mostly traveler’s tales but I believe em Fucking suckers catch a knuckleduster in the heat of summer for pushing too many buttons Shoving unwanted functions into false assumptions about desires with enough gumption To slump slumberers permanently Crunch impossible numbers and adorning crimes with a cum-covered thumbprint Lunch was lit I lit up a whole grip trying to craft crazy shit with the witch-doctor’s kids With one spell cunabear can light up the grid Static shock to the system
8.
“state of being” I’ve lost count of all these dreams of mine Used to keep a tally down the spine But these books need new bindings Caught up in a bind I pull the joint into my mind via the lungs Via the tongue, I observe the world and consider these pages a sacred haven Divine culture taught me more about the self I never knew I never knew I never knew Debilitated Stoners stare into their pillowcases searching for enlightenment until I ask “who’s enlightening?” Frightening the non-believers Summon spirit from the water temple to increase mental development of elemental bending techniques Now to the bloodstream Now to the lifestream Now to the live-stream Broadcasting my beliefs onto a green screen in a cinematic catastrophe During which the actor playing me accomplished everything in life before the tender age of three Clear some space out of my collective memories Spill dreams on the canvas Change hues, stance, and stanzas to fit blues and rhythm panoramas played backwards through your personal auditory Panama Canal Cancelled to focus on simply being to be Corralled into beauty by Time and Change I await brave fragrances to aid my aimless olfactory senses towards a blissful cynics’ definition of “bittersweet living” It’s bittersweet residing here, in this clearing And I didn’t realize my weed-habits habitually lift me 50 feet until the water-levels rose to meet me Move along slow and peacefully towards this spaceship’s trash chute opening and Thrust me into nothingness to witness eternity’s every happening Blink and realize you’re merely dreaming Sleepers stay sleeping until the rapture itself disarms the snooze alarm and it’s harmful ways of thinking I live and stand as a protest to god's only creative hand He jerks off with the other Mother Nature's a finicky bitch Her selection is more often than not on some haphazardous shit Angels in the outfield cause they can't pitch Better off digging ditches for their busted brethren
9.
“finding some sort of love” My time wasted, supremely defined as a 9-5 Can’t shake the weight Guide me to this side of the Mindless River Blind man Hand in hand with competitors in fighting stances One glance in the eye of the storm reminds you how calm life was when you were in love With every other prospect from touch to drug across a sea of black lungs Tongues crossed like a crucifix exhale pleasure and exuberance Steak through the heart of hubris Adorned with a hibiscus headdress Her flower certainly shows off One waft of the aroma exuded and my elusiveness is diluted God DAMN I’m a blubbering fool for you still Lack of strong will to do anything but chill here in the shadow of my greatest fear Blink twice and you watch me disappear Wandering the crossroads searching for the way home And with dead doves hung on the door to the dungeon I calmly carry onward to dream of finding some sort of love I’m out of luck Lack of a soul A time traveler Out of place Excommunication Is the way to find your Self (To find your self) Lost mind control System overload Virus found System overload Losing power System overload
10.
patterns 03:36
“patterns” Breathe In this moment there is peace Stillness Feast upon the now as if it’s all there ever was All there ever is Bathing in the patterns that scatter across this glitchy vision Mass expansion of grey matter Vitals like pistons Blood in the system Strength in the position given Ignition of the star’s heart is a blossoming universe at risk of riding in a hearse Breathe As we speak human kind preserves it’s triumphs and atrocities in an online forum Smuckers for the land after time as we know it (Please remind me Please remind me..)
11.
eye 02:27
“Eye” Sleeping powder turns your nightlight louder Shower in serenity and pour one for your homies Then tip your hat and gloat slowly Broke soldiers grow hearts coldly Coast to coast, Cuna rocks a purple bumper boat Never coat my soul in woven obsidian unless It’s absolutely needed Oblivious to your goals if acquaintance feels like force-feeding Fall in from the 540 rainbow down into a pot of coal Trade gold with the spelunkers in the dungeons so we can get stoney before the function and munch on blueberry muffins Rad with mad crafty abilities Jumbled mumbles exactly like it seems I can only display what I mean Through a veil of awkward collage-based schemes Kaleidoscope scope of the vision in things Visionary accidentally redefining what community means Impressive allegories, Scaling many steep stories I hold all paupers on a pedestal Cause I’ve seen it First Hand Out a blessing from your magic purse I didn’t return to the hearse just to ride in the back Rather carry that weight on my back through the Nether I wade in shallow waters just to slip into coma weather Whether or not what his holster bolsters is bold or effort I rebel; therefore I exist Finding confidence in the freedom Call it treasures unmeasured You can’t behold All 3 eyes closed To the folds Of insanity
12.
13.
“behind the eyes of the image” Silly Skunkfaced Cosmonaught Plug into your faulty socket Arm your mind with conscious thought and learn to walk Then learn to waltz Enigmatic Dragon Born Spread your death language With vital scorn and poisoned horns Or be mounted, slain, and worn As if legacy could protect you from The Happenings of Life I turned my strife in for this Max Revive Used it on the begging man Who died with kindness in his eyes But never festered internal pride From the lifelessness within his grasp Living in the image of Living in the image of Living in the image of The Image If god was a woman I’d compliment her personality out of habits built to maintain the nature of my humble habitat Stumbling on stilts Provided a heightened sense of skill Used to achieve a new view of the world on tilt Imagine that! We stand at the edge of a burial ground The troglodytes before us christened this place holy with One Sound And swore through blood oath that we would follow a similar story Return from whence we came And export new Pokédex entries to the universe’s data storage Return from whence we came

about

Definition of hermit:

1 a :one that retires from society and lives in solitude especially for religious reasons
:recluse

a narrative exploration of self-sustained & self-contained solitude.
a departure from knowing & all things known into nature & all things natural.

To
"RETURN HOME"
Is as big an Adventure
As to define
"HOME"
as
"WHERE I LEFT"
-cunabear

credits

released November 20, 2017

BearTooth Collective presenting:
"tr0glodyte. Burial Ground" by ('i's) & cunabear.

Instrumentals produced by ( 'i's ).
Lyrics/Vocals written, recorded, & performed by cunabear.

Featuring vocals by Valore.
Executive produced by Chris McCormick.
Arranged by cunabear.

Recorded in the House Of Snoring Rappers.
All rights to their respective owners.

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all rights reserved

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about

cunabear Savannah, Georgia

Patron Saint of Patron Saints.

Jazzy, lascivious, psychedelic rap.

EPK: beartoothcollective.wixsite.com/cunabear

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