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The Amalgam

by Jarv

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1.
It’s The Amalgam Staking a claim, I’m back, taking aim At the wack and the lame like back in the day You saying you top tier, I gotta disagree It’s a new beast riding the beat Designing a chaotic array of malevolent melodies That I keep hella neat to defeat MCs Y’all ain’t gonna wanna keep speaking to me When I reiterate what it means to be A top caliber cat, cat-calling a wack act To the back of the venue, the cat’s out of the bag Back to the basics, y’all ain’t playing the same game Young Nate coulda told ya that Cause I’ve been dope, I’ve been fresh Y’all been knowing that I been the best I been sent with a pen and a plan To be sending your man down to Hades, may he rest Yes, it’s just that motherfucking simple This amalgam is leaving you cowards dented in the mental And if you try to understand it, I commend you But I recommend you never test it, kid, this shit’ll end you So tend to your own device Or go ghost when I roll like a poltergeist So tight with a mic in my hand, I could never panic I would kick another rhyme and align the planets I’m ill and I’m dope, I got flows embedded in my genetic code It’s inevitable, the benevolent will never know Until I peep the program and free my soul
2.
Hello, greetings, salutations It’s Nathan, broadcasting live from the basement Take this moment, breathe and reflect For your knees will begin feeling weak in a sec This is a public service announcement To make girls’ cervix spurt like a fountain The earth, it is round and your verse is astoundingly wack Cut the cable and I’m out Can someone get me a Stella Pass the poison, Myrcella Putting down these yellow-belly fellas- Old Yellar Hell or high-water hipster pants I’m in my cellar gripping mics in my blistered hands Shit g’damn, g’day, “I’m the man” ya say I disagree mon amie, get ya mans away I got a plan to stay in the barrel getting pitted Told you not to do it, who knew it, ya gone and did it Kid, I pump the bass so, punk, pump your brakes I eat chumps like roast beef on a lunch date must stay up to date, son fluctuates When Jarv get hard he finna funk your face, uh God dang if I had one wish I’d be driving a black Mustang like John Wick That I purchased with rapper cash That’s a two-in-one, son, I have to laugh- ha Fuck making it, I’m making it happen I’ve accepted that I’ll never get to get paper stacking Fuck making it, I’m making it happen Kid, I’m putting on a clinic with this rap shit But still I’m hoping that I blow up So I’m drinking Coke and Mentos Eating oriental food and freaking instrumentals I want candy painted Cadillacs, I wanna be in Caddyshack “That came out in the 80s” Yeah, time- I wanna travel that G shit, yeah, gorilla style Cruella de Vil’s illegitimate child, uh Break me off a piece of that Kit Kat And while you’re at it, get daddy a six pack of Switchback Oh yeah baby I’m finna get loose Slide left to right, excite with my moves Who fi gwan test? Yes, them bound to lose Leaving too many clues as to who got the juice Dude, I flip shit like meat with a spatula Look at me reenacting scenes from The Bachelor Capture the stamina, too fast for cameras “Daddy got his juice” I flash the gas canister One day I’m gonna find my niche I’ll never sell a million records and I’m fine with it One day I’m gonna hit my stride At your record shop, do the eclectic slide x2 Fuck making it, I’m making it happen I’ve accepted that I’ll never get to get paper stacking Fuck making it, I’m making it happen Kid, I’m putting on a clinic with this rap shit, yo x2 One day I’ma hit my stride At your record shop, do the eclectic slide x4 I’m sliding out
3.
All Day 04:06
I grab the mic like, “It is I, son!” Cleverly rhyme, sever the ties when the time comes And when tides roll and swell, I’ll be caught up in the current Currently I’m sure to be working instead of worthless Production is produced, seduction is induced- Under the fluctuating moods of the cuts and drum grooves Just like the grooves in a record, I’m smooth with my gesture Simplify the syllable and vilify my mind’s efforts What is time? Does time exist? No? Will it stop if I put a hole in that clock with my fist? The fabric rips, the fabric tears Flattened by the kick, cut in half by the snare It’s the bass track that blows my face back I’m in the speaker moving at light speed You might need to replace that burnt fuse Words move to the music in a free sense We spend time creating rhymes with these pens, what Yo, skull crush with a subtle touch I bust ’til dusk, I guarantee I’ll tear MCs until I’m dust But never dusted, I naturally function On a higher level, fuck that devilish and dumb shit Up into orbit I’ma send it Surrender to the sentence, exit through the entrance Entranced fans demand pen tricks Tear whatever the pen hits Test the kid, expect to get slammed, hammered and dented sent it, like a full send, yadadamean? Just gimme the microphone, I’ll shred an MC with ease I’m the cool breeze rolling down your neck, giving you goosebumps The new and improved dude raising the roof up I like writing and I like making beats Combine the two and then my cypher is complete You want it free? naw, nothing’s free, fuck the luxury I’m doing whatever it takes to clip and cut these fucking puppet strings Don’t get mad at him, cat is anti-establishment Haphazard inhabitants lack half of the acumen Fracturing all you thought, even shit you thought you knew Asking, “Who the fuck is Jarv?” I’m asking who the fuck is you? CHORUS I just wanna make beats all day, I just wanna make beats all day I just wanna write rhymes all day, I just wanna write rhymes all day I just wanna make beats all day, I just wanna make beats all day I just wanna write rhymes all day, I just wanna write like right now so check it out If you really wanna sweat it, come and get it, kid I’ll deaden your rep and jettison whatever resembles it I’ll piss upon your silly-hoe style, so wild when I’m riled up Put it on the file, I trust that you’ll never come back Might get slapped with a vinyl Sever the wack like Iron Mike snapped spinal I’m through listening to what you’re telling me I’m dwelling deep under the surface and burning with hellish melodies The furnace’ll roar, furnish a war with the weaponry I’ve heard it before, laborator-style recipes are what I kick Spit scripts until you split, when the thunder hits Please heed warning, get up and dip, ya gotta go I love flipping a sample with some upright Uphold the utmost control of the mic The blunts light themselves when my song comes on I’m dumb tight when I write and I go on and on Non-stop I throw statements, rolling in my spaceship Getting top from your mom, GoPro taping You know that I’m making average joe lame kids So petrified, teeth-chattering, bone-shaking Loe and behold my flows control souls And ravages hoes’ holes, whole battling broke clones I’m grabbing a choke-hold and tagging a foe’s toes Imagine an old soul unraveling whole shows CHORUS It’s The Amalgam, son, it’s The Amalgam, kid It’s The Amalgam of sound that I found within It’s the Amalgam, son, it’s The Amalgam, kid The Amalgam of styles that I proudly flip It’s The Amalgam, son, it’s The Amalgam, kid It’s The Amalgam of sound that I found within It’s The Amalgam, son, it’s The Amalgam And it’s bound to be astoundingly sick
4.
Busted 03:22
Step your game up, don’t test the flavor Check the way the rap activate a- Pack of slack-jaw cats acting foolish “You’re gonna remember me for the rest of your life for this” CHORUS Step to this and yo, you’ll get cold busted Step to this and yo, you’ll get cold busted Step up, kid, you’ll get cold busted When I grab the microphone and bust it x2 Busting lyrics on tunes I made You tried to sing along and now you’re blue in the face What, you didn’t know I was a superhuman? Baby, what the fuck is you doin’?? Yo, c’mon quick, get your shit right bitch, zip your lip tight I know you’re gonna trip when it’s in sight Like, “No, he wasn’t ready!” The flow like a machete Put holes up in his belly and windpipe Ahh, well never mind ya If you’re broke, I will assign ya’ Tough guys a size 9 to your vaginas Rise up, ahh never that, stand down I look ya in the eye and ask ya, “Who the man now?” Damn, wow, Jarv is a freak And he spouts more heat than a gallon of Knob Creek Or Eagle Rare, if we so dare We should take it to the basement I’ll meet you there PRE CHORUS Step your game up, don’t test the flavor Check the way the rap activate a- Pack of slack-jaws acting bad-natured J stay smashing the place up Yo, step your game up, don’t test the flavor Check the way the rap activate a- Pack of slack-jaw cats acting foolish Staying uncouth, y’all knew this, yo CHORUS Busting a pattern with immaculate short chops That’ll have an MC chugging a gallon of Clorox One thing that my style has in common with your mom Is probably that it’s fatter than a warthog You’re not ready to rock the style of a- Top caliber cat cleaner than hand sanitizer I’ma get ‘em all hooked when I sign a deal And I ship rhymes like a rap Pfizer I saw rappers dropping dead Author’s orders the doctor said Toxic waste, spewing sewage, y’all are sooo stupid Leaving ‘em booting when I lace this Instrumental with molten traces Strumming a shoe string, fucking your face in Leaving your bed frame with busted bracing Y’all are basic, flood your basement Talk to God, make love to Satan Make some magic, madness made it Call your momma, your daddy’s wasted Karma caught ya, caught ya slippin’ Catch a bad one, talk some fiction Pot to piss in? Fill the pot full Make some cash flow, kill the gospel PRE-CHORUS CHORUS
5.
Blue 03:25
Another night, lonely, lazy and drunk Trying not to go crazy in a bit of a slump The going got tough, I’m having a hard time Thinking, “Man, I’ll never get out of these blues alive” I’m feeling pretty blue, man, I’m feeling pretty beat up New chick I’ve been talking to don’t wanna meet up Double D cups, I’m ready to feel my N U Ts bust But she’s suss and now she got me living in a deep rut Deep blue hues from the mood to the balls Ex-girl refuse to move when I call I’m sitting in my room and I’m leaning on the wall Staring at the ceiling, hoping that it falls Looking for happiness in all the wrong places Half of me wants love, the other wants to run bases Needless to say, life’s quite the predicament I focus on the rhyme and I apply it to the rhythm and I get a good feeling for a moment or two But I go back to blue when the flowing is through I’m shallow and I’m deep and I don’t know what to do I’m torn and I’m feeling so blue I’m so blue x4 Sometimes when I’m crafting the tunes I’ll hear a sound that takes me back to my youth When I think of where I am now, I haven’t got a clue And often that’ll put me in kind of a blue mood I miss being a kid, man, I miss having fun So the other night I hit the playground just because What have I become? I’m drunk and high Hanging on the monkey bars, running up the slide Jumping off the swings, I was running on the structure I wish I had a time machine, I wish that I was younger Didn’t think it would be this much of a bummer Didn’t think that I’d be twenty-something Living with my mother It’s hard not to feel like a loser When they ask me what I’m doing and I have to say, “Music” It’s not fun feeling like a dumb slob I should get a haircut and possibly a real job I shoulda went to college, I shoulda got out of- The small little town, now bound by nostalgia All my friends growing up and beginning to move But I’m still a little kid with the blues I’m so blue x8
6.
Style 02:23
Uh hi, my name is Nate and fuck a long walk on the beach I’d rather be hanging out in this basement making some beats Non-stopping, my mom’s gotta find it obnoxious This constant knocking of these audible collages Plus the hawk-spit of rhythms hella proper I design prime-time lines, the rhyme author is too nice Unless I’m faded off the brew, speaking of which- That’s another thing I really like to do Getting driggity-drunk with my cliggity-clique When I’m chilling at The Station I get busy ya bitch Find me in your vicinity, I’ll be swigging a fifth But since I’m sober at the moment I’ma spit it like this, uh I don’t be drinking when I gotta rap Because I just don’t wanna be sounding like that I can take it up and away, kicking it quicker than y’all And if y’all got a problem with that You can take it up with someone giving a what, kid When I get upon the mic, I begin bugging And freaking out, leaving the beat in a pile Ain’t a single MC who be seeing my style, uh Pardon me, I ain’t tryina spaz, I’m not a fast rapper I’m an MC who can rap fast when I see fit I’ll make your people come to Jesus When I freak a slow flow and leave a beat in pieces So peep this, what, my fleek steelo’s- Nineteen hundred and ninety-three degrees below I’m ice-cold and someday I’ll be on Until then I’ll switch the beat and keep it moving along Because, “That’s basically my style” And y’all don’t even know what it means to be What it means to be an MC
7.
Victrola 03:56
Jump, jive, gettin’ jiggy in the basement Jarv jaws give a true feeling of jubilation July to June, son juggling jewel statements Julie the june bug and jugular juice Jason Are jamming out, Nate J can account Jenna Jameson and Janet J. oughta joust I jerry-rig a jock-jammed J to the jowls And I chug a jug of Jack and I chase it with stout Now Jarv’s automatically awesome I’m dropping anvils from Andover Vermont down to Austin Assembling an amazing array of anthrax and arsenic The art of advanced arson annihilating Anyone as I’m annoyed at all of y’all androgynous androids Anthropomorphic assimilations Aren’t anywhere annexed or adjacent To rhetoric really rad and hella rich Robust rats rip raps irrelevant Religious republicans reticent Ready-writhe in the reticle of my Remington Relish in raw, repugnant refuse Rock-roll rhymes rough, rugged and rude Revamp ramps and rev rally race rides Reluctantly raggamuffs cut loose and vibe Divide viles of vast verses vamp various vile-verified versions Vex and vent; veer void, violent vipers Veni, vidi, vici; venemous verbalizer Vigilance; vilify villages Increase the volume, I’ll get villanous And vicious like Invader Zim or Darth Vader The way Vin Vega’s veins been- Straight vitriol spinning on a victrola On the track I’m sicker than Ebola Post up and get roasted, son J A to the R V’s dope as fuck It’s straight vitriol spinning on a victrola Shit’s sick, man, I thought I told ya Show up and get roasted son J A to the R V’s dope as fuck It’s the jump off; jawbreaker jump ball Juvenile Jarv in a jukebox junkyard Jerry can judo journal-jacking junkies Judas jumped Jesus, juxed him just cause he was judgy All of y’all are actors affluent in Aspen Actively adopting Alabama accents Asinine adverts and adolescent apathy Y’all amateur anesthesiologists aren’t attracting me Rack ‘em, rack, rack ‘em, rackball I’m in a Range Rover reciting some riveting raps, y’all Roll out red rugs, roll reefer and resin Relax with the resident relic relish and rep his-Very vast vocabulary vapid, vital and vulgar Vibing in your vixen’s Volvo visualizing the vulva Then voila; vanish in a vaginal vortex The verbally vascular vernacular vet Will claim victory spinning on a victrola I’m a king, please get me a mimosa I roll out and don’t show no bucks Cause J A to the R V’s broke as fuck I claim victory spinning on a victrola When I was young I used to drink mad soda But now it’s H20 because I’m so grown up, what My name is Jarv and y’all can hold my nuts
8.
WAX: Big Wax, needle in a hay stack doing it since way back Big like The Payback or any other break track I’ma decimate that, fill it up with great rap call me Pat Sajak Fortunate wheels of steel torching the reel to reel tape or the ADAT Force you to feel the real deal like a face slap Into your brain, I engrain that Fucking with me? you should refrain from that JARV: It’s Nathan, that cracker with the dope shit Master with the flow, sick, nasty and atrocious Smacking up a foe, acting like I’m Hulk Hogan Pass the microphone, get it cracking like a broke wrist Pros get mowed with those slick poems I cold kick Hopeless hoe-bitch, hold this whole dick Go get gone, I’ll piss on your whole clique Kick it on a lower plateau where you’re supposed to sit WAX: Deodorant fresh me- known to impress We the coldest and the best east over to the west We ain’t knowing when to rest keep flowing with finesse When the beat’s over I’ma need to load another session JARV: In time like a tick-tock-metronome-wristwatch Keep it on the tip-top summit of the Hip-Hop mountains I touch clouds and hit flocks of birds with words Herbs deserve to kick rocks WAX: I spit hot, pristine, spectacular sixteens JARV: Rapping on the ceiling at the Chapel of Sistine WAX: Your worst nightmare But the cat of your chick’s dreams JARV: You’re no match for me WAX: Get back yo BOTH: Bitch please, half these MCs get thrown back to preschool JARV: People hear me rapping and they say.. WAX: Yeah, he’s cool JARV: Half these MCs get thrown back to pre-k WAX: People hear me rapping and be like… JARV: Oh, he’s great WAX: Half these MCs get thrown back to nursery school JARV: They hear me rap and be like… WAX: Word, he cool JARV: Half these MCs get thrown back in the uterus WAX: People hear me rap and be like… JARV: Who is this?? JARV: Yeah, yeah, back at it again Young Jarv rapping like he downed a pack of Extenze I’ll last ten rounds battling a pack of your friends A mack daddy with slags, a jackass with a pen I backspin like a B-Boy, back cue like a DJ Spit like a fat cap writing graf on a beat break These takes oughta be inducted in the library of congress Jarv steady dropping that bomb shit WAX: Pass the mic like you pass a baton I’m in the house like you had bought me at Bed, Bath and Beyond If any rapper get to yapping, I don’t have to respond I got a million songs I would rather be working on, I’m- Magnificent, doing it mad different Mad sick as if I had syphilis, my passion’s ridiculous My craft is perfected and such That people say that, to the beat I add an excellent touch JARV: Sitting ducks, hit the rug y’all ain’t got the skill Cornier’n that girly on Dr. Phil You catch me inside the cyph cause I’m ill The mic is my scythe, I stab, slice and kill WAX: Ask those in the know who the illest with the ballpoint Towards me, will be where they all point Old school, action-packed, rapping really raw joints If it was a movie it’d be one of them Steven Seagal joints BOTH: Half these MCs get thrown back to preschool JARV: People hear me rapping and they say.. WAX: Yeah, he’s cool JARV: Half these MCs get thrown back to pre-k WAX: People hear me rapping and be like… JARV: Oh, he’s great WAX: Half these MCs get thrown back to nursery school JARV: They hear me rap and be like… WAX: Word, he cool JARV: Half these MCs get thrown back in the uterus WAX: People hear me rap and be like… JARV: Who is this??
9.
MR. LIF: It’s true love like two doves represent peace Wave my finger in the air then your rhyme is deceased You feel grief- This is not a time for mourning Or then I release the agent orange Portions of thoughts went missing with no trace Removing my grill, feel the man with no face My identity eventually marked a century What I conquer mentally defines where you’ll find me Somewhere between the past and mega-blast A tangible feel on what man can’t grasp Release my grip then time slipped to silent I write poems ‘til my dome’s an island A land mass that’s composed of ash Volcanic rushes consume all planets Blackholes are left behind by my antics Never build my self-esteem based on what the fans pick Semantics, boy, gimme a break When I’m sipping the continuum and drinking a lake You may break, yes I’m talking compound fracture Masher, who kill him, the white boy Hatcher? Yes, you’ve been marked for death I monopolize ears then you’re charged for breath Now your doctor wanna claim that I’m your cause for stress? That degree was hard-earned, good times, nice guess You’re wrong; I can rap all night long can’t envision what my life would be without these songs From the crack of dawn, ’til the sun is gone Two words that can express the heart of this art form is true love JARV: Young Jarv in the place to be I rip the mic and I make the beats Independent ’til death yes, my property Is intellectual cause yes-men are obsolete I’m probably way ahead of my time Severing heads with indelible rhymes You could try dissing him but when listening to the wax Opinion’s irrelevant in the vicinity of facts Back to basics, moving into the future The fact to face is; my brain is a computer A super computer with style and humor That would never make a video rhyming inside an uber Hip-Hop is not a novelty It might be to you, but it’s not to me So you can save the click-bait cause I got news Respect and props don’t reflect the views Who’s who? Well, it definitely ain’t you I’m lethal with the pen and the pen is the weapon I choose So boost the bass until it moves your face Remain in tune and never lose your place And my place is in the middle of rhythm In the pocket I keep it rocking to the knock of the system If the breakers wanna pop then Jarv will assist them In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida God’ll deliver the venom, uh Yeah, it burns when I’m rubbing it in I been fucking with words since I was a little kid And yeah, I’m grown now and I ain’t never gonna quit I ain’t never gonna stop cause I love this shit, it’s true love
10.
Focus 03:39
Praises be by the grace of God Little Nathan raised in a racing car Underneath my seat is a mason jar Full of weed that I raised in my neighbor’s yard While I’m cruising around I let my music blare Pedal to the metal, get it moving, yeah You’re looking in my car like, “Who’s in there?” I said, “Ooh my dear, I do declare” Me, myself and hurricane Irene Hitting VT like deers in high beams Smash on the gas, take it up on a grass lawn Having my fun now cause I know it don’t last long "Let The Horns Blow", Dillon has been dope I’m ‘bout to fill y’all in on some villainous info I’ve got a brew in the cup holder, me and my kinfolk Slug ‘em on backroads and chuck ‘em out windows Yo, I called shotgun My good friend Nate M is able to pop cans with his thumb I wish that I could do it but I guess I’m just a punk Fuck it, pop another one and turn the volume up Cause we’re cruising ‘round in my car, it’s an ’08 Jetta We’re cruising ‘round in Nate M’s car, it’s a silver Mazda We’re cruising ‘round in TC’s truck, it’s a Chevy Silverado We’re cruising ‘round in Ethan’s car, it’s a two thousand and six Aww yeeuhhh- feel that One hand on my lap, the other where the steering wheel at Forreal jack, I think I need a meal or a snack Cause we’ve been blazing and it ain’t often I’m weeded like that And so we whip it out to Hartland, you already know Gonna hit Mike’s for six packs, chicken tenders and jojos I go slow when I’m stoned and fast when I’m buzzed Unless I’m in the heart of town watching out for the fuzz I know my limits and I know when to call it quits I’ll arrive home alive, it’s survival of the fittest I rise to the occasion and keep it in the lines If I’m rolling with my guys then I’m fine- Why? Cause we’re cruising ‘round in my car, it’s an ’08 Jetta We’re cruising ‘round in Nate M’s car, it’s a silver Mazda We’re cruising ‘round in TC’s truck, it’s a Chevy Silverado We’re cruising ‘round in Ethan’s car, it’s a two thousand and six Ford Focus x4 Check it out, I said praises be by the grace of God Little Nathan raised in a racing car Underneath my seat is a mason jar Full of weed that I raised in my neighbor’s yard While I’m cruising around I let my music blare Pedal to the metal, get it moving, yeah You’re looking in my car like, “Who’s in there?” I said, “Ooh my dear, I do declare, let’s cruise” I said cruising ‘round in my car, it’s an ’08 Jetta We’re cruising ‘round in Nate M’s car, it’s a silver Mazda We’re cruising ‘round in TC’s truck, it’s a Chevy Silverado We’re cruising ‘round in Ethan’s car, it’s a two thousand and six Ford Focus x4
11.
Can't Say 03:08
Yo, I’ve been up in it a minute And now I’m beginning to lose my patience But that don’t mean that I’ll in any way Be reconsidering my vocation I’m doing it because I love it and buddy That bit ain’t about to be changing But once in a while I just need a reminder To tell me I’ve already made it When thinking about all the people That’s living in terrible situations I’m reminded I gotta be thankful I don’t gotta be getting all the praises Everyone can’t be on top of the planet And damn it, I can’t be complaining Maintaining and underground haven a tape at a time I’ll be taking a page and then making it rhyme I’m fine minus the limelight’s guidance I’ll design my finest lines with the fires of applied science Fly shit coming from inside your box Busting’ outta the center of my skull and crossbones Flow be disgusting And they bite it and get all the credit My homie recognized it and said it “Man, these lines taste like Escargot” Ha, what a shocker I probably oughta cop a rocket launcher And then pop off at all of y’all Jarv imposters But then and again, fuck it I’ll forget about it and keep it moving Killing this music, showing and proving, building a movement Skills improving with every rhyme I write, kid It’s the sleeping giant keeping these MCs quiet, y’all- Can’t say shit about this Hip-Hop x4 Once in a while I can remember the day when I begin this rapping And what I was feeling inside of my brain And then what it was ended up happening I can remember the weather The way that the room had been decorated and the grade I was in What was on television The color of ink in the pen I was grasping? Blue; Who woulda knew I just stumbled upon this eternal Method of putting my heart and my soul Into rhythm by flipping these words yo I couldn’t even begin to imagine The feeling that baby Jarv woulda been having If he’d have known when he got older He’d pick up a mic and ignite and inferno I remember the journal And how, when I got it I thought it was girl shit It was a holiday gift and I thought to myself “What I do to deserve this? I want a video game and a mini-bike You really don’t have a clue what a kid would like I wanna do anything but just sit and write It really doesn’t seem worth it” Perfect, it sat on the shelf it was submerged in Waiting to be unearthed, it seems simple on the surface But thinking about it I can’t even fathom How different it all would have been If I never had opened it up out of boredom I picked up a pen and was given a purpose I’m a high roller I’ll crush you like a bolder Sucka, you ain’t cool man You so stupid, seems like you never even went to school Fool, what you trying to do? Can’t say shit about this Hip-Hop x4
12.
The Amalgam 04:13
Yeah, it’s The Amalgam I remember back in the day I would play video games While I listened to this mixtape my big sis made It had Bus-a-Bus, Del The Funky Homosapien DMX, 2 Live Crew and Wu-Tang Picture me, second grade, in my room rapping along Playing Banjo and Kazooie with my boombox on Ha, yeah, I can’t forget it to this day It played a rose-colored role in what made me this way And then in sixth grade I started skateboarding And after the first day, nothing was ever the same for me I found new music, I made new friends Most of ‘em quit, but shit, I wish we could do it again I mean, we could but that’ll probably never happen When people grow, they tend to redefine what makes them happy But I loved those days, I wouldn’t be the same without ‘em Another chapter I have found bound in my amalgam Now I’ma skip ahead to when I was twenty-one Chilling at the bar, getting buzzy with my buds MV just started rocking them shows So I developed confidence when talking to them- Hold up, hold up, hold up, wait a minute, yo I’ma try to keep it wholesome I’ve been told that it’s good for the soul plus- I’m in my mid-twenties and I’m tryina to show I’ve grown One percent less self-centered and self-indulgent, ha Yeah, that’s quite a feat, ya see- I’ve been an MC since I was seventeen, which means That I’ve been talking trash for years, even to my peers Drunk battles at the Castle while I’m pounding some beers Those were the days, but these are the days too There ain’t no use living in the past, dude You don’t get a take two Make new memories, live it and be proud, son Add some elements to your amalgam It’s The Amalgam; Facets of life compound and become you Whether or not you like the outcome I hope it’s one you’re proud of Sadly, the average person Doesn’t appreciate the sun until the clouds come But such is life, everybody got a vice Finding my relationships falling by the waist side Growing up is hard but you can’t forget to make time Focus on your squad so that if you shine, they shine And that’s what I’m trying to do; I’m trying to get ahead I’m trying to have some fun with my friends I’m trying to make bread; I’m trying to break bread I’m trying to focus on the road ahead and keep my soul in check I know the best days are yet to come I don’t doubt there’ll be dark days as well, but I don’t worry about them I’ll hold my head high except to bounce to the song Keep it on, become one with The Amalgam, uh It’s The Amalgam, son, it’s The Amalgam, kid The Amalgam of sound that I found within It’s the Amalgam, son, it’s The Amalgam, kid The Amalgam of trials in this life I live It’s The Amalgam, son, it’s The Amalgam, kid The Amalgam of sound that I found within It’s The Amalgam, son, it’s The Amalgam, kid Live in the now, yet vow to dream big

about

IT'S THE AMALGAM SON
IT'S THE AMALGAM KID

credits

released December 2, 2022

Beats, rhymes, cuts, mix + artwork by Jarv
Austin Beveridge played bass on "Focus"
Danny Whitney played keys on "Can't Say"
Keila Myles sang on "The Amalgam"
Mastered by Rick Essig

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Jarv Windsor, Vermont

Name's Jarv, large R-tard

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