Hockey Hill - Flaco (Album)

"Flaco" don't ever spread himself too thin, still riding around this bitch like that, not a care in the world on the Malvi assisted "Scene Kids." The trap overtones coupled with the operatic wails in the background make this record sound ever so villainous as he bites everything in sight; his fangs are fierce enough to pierce through the thickest of skin. He's like Eric Draven coming back to settle all scores; his voice is so distinctive, it's nightmarish, garlic couldn't stop his vampiric rampage. No matter the time of day, he's always ready to sink his teeth into his next victim & Malvi comes through with quite the energetic flow. He's the wasp stinging everything in the vicinity, whereas you, the bee, would just fall dead.

I wouldn't take a bite at the "Cherry Popper" if I were you cause you won't get a second after he squishes you like one. I advise they do their research, though his mystique wouldn't tell you much, you can just feel it. His presence will chill spines, a tall, lanky figure moving through the shadows with swiftness. All cats are gray after dark though he's one you wouldn't want to step on the tail of; this beat is too insane. It encapsulates how much of a silent killer he is; you'll be lying in a pool of your own blood before you even see him coming. It's near impossible to predict what his next move will be; after he's done with his victim, he leaves without a trace, no trail of blood, not a crow feather, nothing, his tales are damn near folklore.

Him & Paintitblues offer an ominous warning to visitors who dare tread the parts of which they reside. It's not the kind of environment you'd fit into as they urge you to go back to where you come from and stay away from their perimeter. There's nothing & no one that can save you from the undead; even falling for his lamia is a bad idea for you won't like where that infatuation & curiosity will lead you to both he & Blue's voices are damn near synonymous with one another as one seamlessly transitions into the other. Blues is delivering his usual standout punches; you never know where his rhymes will land, making them all the more intriguing. The tip of his pen is just dripping with poison; there's a particular line here to show just how much he could care less of how you view him. You honestly don't even know what you're looking at & I, for one, love that we get these Texas mixes as well; it really exemplifies that poison seeping into your veins as they watch you slowly slip into paralysis.