Trap kit, hand percussion, homemade percussion instruments and electronic percussion overflow with extra weirdness.
Sick pop rhythms grinding through the wasteland.

Sand in your hair and bugs in your teeth.
Hand on your knife, knife in your sheath
Grimy bass burps through a fried stack
And the crack of the snare is a mighty pink smack
Bells, whistles, conga, and vibes
This is a drug record
One thousand times