by Marrice Anthony



i would say i put my heart and soul into this shit or whatever but i just felt like making some new shit and having some fun so i did all this shit in a week.


released July 26, 2019

written and performed by Marrice Anthony in THPNKRM

Living Ghost vocals contributed by way of Daniel Davis for This AIn't Heaven Recording Concern

all production by ESXXR TXNY in THPNKRM except for Track 4, which is produced by Chris Punsalan

mixed and mastered by ESXXR TXNY in THPNKRM


all rights reserved



Marrice Anthony Wichita, Kansas

here's a bunch of cool shit i did in my room. all social media: (@)marriceanthony

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Track Name: TXNY
1) don't get the lines crossed,
every time i jot i time hop,
comp in a pine box,
smoke screen noob saibot,
still beamin thru the shade,
i'm cyclops,
arch angel rhyme slot,
i ain't get into this game just to fly swat,
swoosh on they neck,
jump the boards w/ the combos,
i record on a tight rope.
coarse w/ the chisel,
check the chipped flow,
niggas gettin cocky off the citgo,
i'ma be the match,
mack wilds w/ the baby face,
this is like uma verses 88,
spank em w/ the weapon,
run down on em,
let em get they thoughts together,
just to blow they fuckin heads off like agent j,
this the shit you can't clear out w/ nasal spray,
the last record should've put me in an ankle brace,
niggas couldn't put me on the scale,
did my numbers w/ the cuts,
spoon bubblin till it rust,


T to the X N Y,
cookin everything,
may all of y'all fry,
this is for the vein,
birds keep chirpin for the caine,
what's my mufuckin name?

2) girl what i got i wanna give it to yo mama,
link you w/ the soda gotta stir it till it lock up,
i got a supply for ya type i'm a doctor,
posted in the hall w/ the pad like a proctor,
every time i pull up it's knocker,
got em on the floor like the basa,
then ghost w/ the notes,
this is phantom of the opera,
leaded up,
drippin out the faucet,
the keys in the clicks of the bic,
king pen game,
every ink stain is a brick,
(it's a brick)
swear to God i'm illie w/ the zips,
everybody pushin pillies till they pushin up lillies,
i'm just tryna give you ups,
have you jumpin for a skinny,
niggas tryna catch it in the glove like a jimmy,
& even ya bitch sweatin the fit like it's fenty,
so keep them stones clouded,
i'ma keep writin powder for the fiends,
good like tryna keep they nose clean,
Track Name: NIGGER LOVER (ft. Living Ghost)
nigger lover

i been a nigga my whole life,
hanged by the rope but i'm alright,
fuck yo lawn + fuck those lights >
y'all gon fall in love w/ a nigger tonight >
this is my, love song to all the racists > romanticizing the demise of black faces >
i pull up w/ the SQUAD you start feeling out of place >
durags + timbs, sagging down to the ankles >
i only do this shit cuz i know how much you hate it >
soaking up all the hatred i'ma need me a grill >
shit whatever i can do to get the neighborhood quaking,
we don't care about yo purse, we take households first,
come + say it to my face if you bout yo dirt >
you get knocked right up out yo skirt,
i am not yo buddy, give a fuck what amount yo worth >
i will smack the white Jesus right up out yo church,
aim the banger at the opps put 12 in ya top >
shoot another nigga dead + we coming for the rest >
had it good but we movin y'all out yo spot >
better tap out for we black out the whole block,

i been a nigga my whole life,
hanged by the rope but i'm alright,
fuck yo lawn + fuck those lights >
y'all gon fall in love w/ a nigger tonight >

we don't give a fuck bout y'all being scared,
we been scared for bout 700 years,
this whole time we been chained to a chair >
or dangling in the air or begging for a fair >
+ we sick of it, can't believe this shit's still a discussion,
but there's a new wave now let's get em accustomed,
i know you thinkin to yaself this nigga is buggin,
but don't trip + start thinkin this nigga is bluffin,
hit the lights on em show em how it feel >
when a gang of niggas peel + they dying on the hill,
i'll be damned if i go out like that >
you mufuckas pop at me i'ma pop right back,
if my daughter catch a stray i'ma park it in the gate >
put a target on ya face + ya mama in a case,
walk up to the pastor barking at ya wake >
+ carve black power into the side of his face
thanks to those who came befo the cake + major goals stayed + waved at shows,
thanks to those who aimed to show they face instead of making waves as hateful ghosts,
maybe i'm just hazy eyed but satan tried to yank me close,
i don't stand near the flame when they gave me rope >
i instead hung my fears + escaped the choke,
i evolved from a boy to a ageless hope,
adolescent in my ways but i wade in growth,
pulled teeth thru the wire i done bathed in smoke,
+ pulled thru every obstacle in ways you won't,
cuz you stuck on the past i've erased it tho,
i don't even answer phone calls the same no mo,
if you knew me pre 2013 you should throw away that dream cuz i ain't little MA no mo,

no matter how many times we kicked it,
nigga you don't know me,
niggas tried to expose me,
then tell people that we homies,
you in that same spot you was before 40, trippin off the old me,
thinking shit finna be cool overtime w/ some dap + some wine but it won't be,

thanks to yo for all the stress,
all the nights i fought for less,
all the dreams you stole + sold,
cuz now i see you don't belong,
hopping circles homies gone,
even still can't hold your own,
all the shit you said you owned,
you just borrowed all along >
face that you ain't a man, i was only 16 i was raising a man,
you was living off the sweat that i wiped away,
looking at your ways + you haven't put the knife away,
crying to yourself when you know that it's the life you paved,,
ironic you died when you tried take my life away,
i thank God everyday for this wider gaze,
cuz now i'm able to spot bullshit a mile away
Track Name: BUTTERFLIES (w/ Chris Punsalan)
it’s been, 3 weeks since the intro,
you put a tracker in my chest, a break from real >
the next, best thing since rings + jets >
i got mileage but you still wanna drive it >
the time is whenever, i put enough style + effort >
into the step to, never gotta guess who >
i made it very clear to dear this isn't rescue >
you can stay right where you at, my life already packed >
i'm talkin, at capacity from kitchen to guest room,
move pillows to the floor so the satin can accept you >
yes you got aim + ain't miss >
so now i'm stuck at home nursing a flesh wound >

like the first time that i ever skipped curfew,
or the flashing lights when they in pursuit,
you give me chills + i don't wanna dessert you >
knowing my switch, you could scatter my brain w/ perfume these >

+ i wouldn't have it any other way,
pass my way >

i move rusty due to being out the game for a while,
simple enough, i play it cool but you calling my bluff >
i'm not good w/ forced convo, can't get a break in the ice >
but ye show me that lovers can be homies >
i probably need a cold drink, + some solitude,
i hate people but i'd love to be alone w/ you,
under the radar but i'm seeing the overview >
everyone else says i'm quiet + too emotional >
but ever since meddling w/ my doorbell,
caught wind thru the window that miss wanted the info >
10 fo + now it's tenfold a crescendo,
hear you in my earphones facetime to save time,
heaven help me while i'm listening to lizzo >
you acting as janet never lackin w/ the control,
i go down as the sun goes,
just to watch your flower bloom i made room >

for us to keep it grown, us to intertwine,
us to play a role or us to keep it fly >
you breakin it all down i'm just tryna keep my eyes >
cuz the way you knock these lights out making me go blind them,

+ i wouldn't have it any other way,
pass my way
Track Name: BROKE NIGGA ANTHEM (ft. Paris Jane)
down to my, last buck + i'm scraping thin i got,
hope + dust from the atm,
fat boy love to eat but they pay me slim >
i got a dollar + a dream but you can't eat them,
tired of 9 to 5 need an 8 to 10 >
them shift bids need a break from them but that's rent >
don't wanna hear me complain? pay me then >
i put a hundred into it for a shady split forreal,
shit bosses a bit cautious to quit cause it'll cause >
for whipped me to be slick posted on indeed w/ chipped knees, praying for an open slot >
nigga i ain't even start + i'm already ready for sick leave,
what's the point of punchin the clock when the clock's against me it's crazy, you could be the best rapper ever havin to split the 4 for 4 at wendy's goddamn

i don't know what you want from me,
but i ain't got money to spend on you,
i know they say mo money means mo problems for me,
but that just ain't true

ain't no, way to save when there ain't no prophet,
ain't no dance for this bank deposit,
+ all i wanna do is make this project >
damn that skyzoo verse hurt my pocket,
forrest gump lied man ain't no chocolate just a,
box of shit i been workin all day searchin for a pot to piss >
approximately 60 hours + i still ain't rich b,
i know the line can't take it w/ me >
but before i hit the grave, i'ma need a raise >
if you feel me, put ya wallets in the sky,
wave em side to side + keep your hands high >
nah, tell me, who's hot who not >
who watched for dude who took money out the drawer >
when it's, back to back ignored app to app >
you risk doing bids just to make it to forbes you know,
Track Name: REESEY
got a chica on the beeper tryna turn me to a fienda,
freaka like adina suck me clean up out adidas,
lil mama shootin so i hit her w/ the nina,
reesey on her cd player knew she was a keeper >
i be bossin,
frankly often see me talkin to a tall one,
i am not a punchline you cannot disrupt mine >
tell her she can follow to the pad when it's hunch >
time zippin thru her kidneys >
even if she w/ the itty bitty titty committee >
i don't discriminate, you can get the dick appointment dinner date,
we can slow the shit down if it help you ventilate,
you'll be coming right on time + not a minute late, 808,
liftin up the trunk lay the seat down,
every night is mayhem bully beatdown,
sometimes i would swear that i can see sounds,
bitch i got that juice that you can drink down >
pull out the cammy, consensual when rubbin on a thigh >
won't me too me,
i be comfortable inside >
+ the way keep it jumpin every time i bust a rhyme >
got these goofy's bumpin hooptie goin dummy on the line like >
do you love me,
are you riding,
get the fuck up out my face,
strap ya tits on when i put my knuckle on the bass,
by the time the snare hit you gon be bussin out the tank,
i be foolin + steady coolin >
ain't never studied any rubric to any movement >
i got the premy + believe me bb, the city stupid >
+ truth is givin a fuck is pretty useless, forreal