"Sound Boy Burial - Hunga Stryke"  Parental Advisory genre: Hip Hop
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	Bangin' hip hop track with a catchy groove and touch of dancehall reggae flavor on the hook. Hunga Stryke delivers a "hip hop quotable" caliber lyrical performance with unbelievable flow.
	Credits: Written by Kwansah "Hunga Stryke" Madani and Chad "Tru Self" Means. Rap performed by Hunga Stryke. Additional vocals by Patman and Tru Self
	Story Behind the Song I initially created the instrumental track for this song and then brought Hunga Stryke in the studio to check it out. He immediately felt the vibe and started writing to the track. After laying down the vocals for all of the verses, the only thing left to do was come up with a hook. Hunga Stryke was feeling a dancehall reggae vibe, reflective of his Jamaican roots on the track and began to craft some ideas in his head. When he sang what he had come up with I knew we definitely had something but I felt that something was missing. I thought we needed a higher pitched vocal to complement the deeper natural vocals that Hunga Stryke had laid down. Since we didn't have a female vocalist as I envisioned, I decide to try and sing the additional high pitched vocal myself. A lot of people think that the voice is a sample when they hear it but it was actually created by using a pitch shifter effect on my own voice. By shifting the vocal to the higher pitch, I was able to create a sound similar to a high pitched woman's voice that meshed with the track perfectly and gave the hook the complete vibe that we envisioned. -Tru Lyrics VERSE 1 Running it from the mouth and poppin' shit so you can feel it. Hunga Stryke presents the final call, truth is now appealing Feeling like when I pick up the mic the vice is mine tonight Giving it all I got, electric shock, I light the night, I take flight Mix herbs with words Don't disturb the groove The movement is all about understandable smooth shit Rep the life of New Jerusalem Music I'm using metaphors and slang to make it bang and give y'all niggas mass confusion Pick up your tools then. Lick a shot and you can get it ock Right around the block where you live at Feel the impact shatter your bone structure Ask your baby's mother for mercy because it's always real in New Jersey. Essex County spotlight. Blunt rollin, titty bar, dough flowin' in the pussy. Bitches who don't act right. Live and direct words from a black light studio production. A world full of political corruption. Kinda like the Christian coalition on a mission, listen how the rhythm changes your opinion with preciscion. Bend the truth just like white light up in a prism. The hardest artist My rhymes do time in the state prison catching charges. HOOK Take back your chat, for we no take none of that. Sound boy burial your flat. Feel it make it nice every time. Wind your waist 'round while you lime. Hunga Stryke master god divine. (Repeats) VERSE 2 Mind stays infinite Hunga Stryke on some different shit Flip a script, when I see the mic rippin it Thinking about how Malcolm made the plan and we're missing it. They came to Africa, they took the land -huh- Christened it. Come around streets of New Jerusalem get pistol whipped. Jersey avenue niggas forever straight spliffin' it Shorty asked me what I'm doin I said kickin' it Took her to the crib, she had a taste for the licorice. In fact on this track, kicking more explicit shit Reverse the 96, I'm playing with the clitoris. It's getting Wilder than Gene Pryor to that Richard kid I do the knowledge for the ones that's living ignorant 'cause it be trife type timing. Nigga stop rhyming While you're busy buying diamonds I get busy while freestyling on the intellect. My rhymes connect the population like the internet with digital wireless introspect, ha!

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