Your shitty fucking music isnt worth the data its uploaded onto soundcloud with. And H.P. Lovecraft is rolling in his grave knowing some fucking retard like you is using his name.

Dude, I know I have been relentless about messing with you Spange, but you don’t have to give away your entire collection of PSY music to get people to listen to you man. There are other ways to get traffic to your YouTube and Sound cloud.

You want people to WANT to listen to you for enjoyment, not a pay off.

You just need some practice and a little guidance.

In fact, why don’t you let me produce one song on your project. I have over 2000 beats in my stash, I will send you a sampler,  you pick any one your feeling OR tell me what kind of beats you like and I guarantee I have a track to suit you.

When I say produce, that’s not the same as just making you a beat, that’s seeing the track all the way through. Its lyrical content, Structure, your flow. Every aspect of the song, I will have control of 

Then I will properly coach/ mix your vocals, with in the song.

It does not matter if your recording off a cheap PC mic, By the time I’m done with layering your vocals, people will think you have a 1000 plus microphone.

I guarantee you, the song will stand out from the rest of your album material and you will want it as a lead single.

No tricks, no bullshit. Shoot me a PM and we can knock it out.

Its that simple.

jiggles the clown said

Karacalla said
Dude, I know I have been relentless about messing with you Spange, but you don’t have to give away your entire collection of PSY music to get people to listen to you man. There are other ways to get traffic to your YouTube and Sound cloud.

You want people to WANT to listen to you for enjoyment, not a pay off.

You just need some practice and a little guidance.

In fact, why don’t you let me produce one song on your project. I have over 2000 beats in my stash, I will send you a sampler,  you pick any one your feeling OR tell me what kind of beats you like and I guarantee I have a track to suit you.

When I say produce, that’s not the same as just making you a beat, that’s seeing the track all the way through. Its lyrical content, Structure, your flow. Every aspect of the song, I will have control of 

Then I will properly coach/ mix your vocals, with in the song.

It does not matter if your recording off a cheap PC mic, By the time I’m done with layering your vocals, people will think you have a 1000 plus microphone.

I guarantee you, the song will stand out from the rest of your album material and you will want it as a lead single.

No tricks, no bullshit. Shoot me a PM and we can knock it out.

Its that simple.  

 

even high quality production won’t help spanglish here. What he needs is a ghost writer and someone to help his flow as well.  

What you mentioned are all some of the things a producer oversees.

With one track, I guarantee you I can mold this kid…even over the internet.

He still hasn’t PM me back though.

Mr. @spange, I listen to a lot of 60’s and 70’s on the radio. People are strange by The Doors came on. Got me thinking…

People are “spange” just doesn’t make sence, but im sure theres a dope ass song out there that you could slip your name into with ease. Use some of the original sampling from the old tune, flip some words around, and viola.

Spange magic perhaps?

I’ll listen to your music and take all your merch, I’ll even pay for postage to Australia!

Drunkalo said

Sometimes you wanna go

Where everybody knows your @spange…

This shit could be rocked hard!

@djscrubb, @karacalla, @lucem, whip something up for this boy!   

 I was honest and sincere when I offered to help this kid, He never PM’d me back though.

I was going to give him a really good beat, One I have multiple hours invested in. Then I was going to help with his lyrics and coach him on how to use proper delivery and emphasize certain words. Actually Produce a song, no matter how long it would have taken. I was also willing to have my patna professionally Master the entire thing, but no, Spange is way to big for any help. He seems to have it all down pat at this point.

I could have produced a single for this kid that would have raised eye brows, in a good way, I would have even used my actual production name and stood by it.

I figured it was the least I could do for giving him such a hard time on here. For once the angel on my shoulder over powered the devil constantly shouting in my ear!!!!

I, like a lot of artist, used to be this kid, only our early Demo stuff is on a cassette tape somewhere, and not on the internet for ridicule.

BUT,

The offer has since expired, He is dead to me now, lol.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dXVS2VGsXRQ

As Spange’s world tour is wrapping up, he gives a once in a lifetime interview before taking the stage for one final time.

 Crammed inside of a closed door convention hall, every major news and media outlet is in attendance.

Cameras and Microphones are set up and interviewers have been picked through a worldwide lottery system

as to who and what order the questions will be asked.

The chatter in the convention hall quickly comes to a stop as the doors quickly open and a team of Navy seal’s enter in.

They walk in a circle pattern, guns drawn, Encompassing their precious cargo, Spange.

The service men yell for every one to move back as they slowly make their way down a path leading to

the end of the room and the stage.

One of the Navy seals physically picks up Spange and places him in a chair, mocked up to look like a kings throne.

“You have touched the body of a god.”, Spange relays to the serviceman walking away to join his comrades guarding the event.

He sits center stage, elevated above the crowd, donned in a white three piece suit with over sized sunglasses on.

A reporter faints and is quickly dragged outside by her legs and removed.

A male journalist walks up to the microphone and addresses Spang.

“Hi, I’m Mike Dangerwood with music now media. I love all your stuff man……”

Spange quickly snaps his fingers, prompting one of the guards to leap in to action.

He charges towards the man at the microphone.

His face is repeatedly hit with the stock of an assault rifle.

His limp body is drug out through the doors and moments later a single shot is heard.

” Music now media rated my last album, Fuck Twiztid, four out of five stars. That was unfortunate.”, Spange informs the crowd.

A woman is next in line and steps up to the microphone,

” My name is Megan Conley, I’m with Pulse Urban Network. My question to you is, Why the hatred for MNE and Twiztid?”

A red dot appears at the bottom of the woman’s short skirt. It slowly drifts up and stops on her forehead.

A guard disguised as one of the light fixtures hanging above the crowd is pointing a gun in her direction.

” Stand down Nigel, I got this.”, Commands Spange.

The red dot vanishes and Spange begins to answer,

” The world knows me as Spange, but before my transition in to a music god, I was simply known as Eric, son of

Shariah, a wheelchair bound teen. Twiztid decided my circumstances would make for good entertainment and used me

and mother for a skit on one of their artist albums. Shariah Mantooth was a saint, and did not deserve that.

She drank herself to death because of them.

I used that anger as motivation and began to walk again. I honed my rap skills to destroy them and the rest is

well documented history.”

The woman thanks Spange for his answer and begins to sit down.

The trip down memory lane makes Spange a tad bit emotional as a single tear drop falls down his face from underneath his

sunglasses.

” Do it now Nigel.”, He says, while gesturing to the crowd.

The woman is startled as she realizes the chair she is sitting in is actually one of Spanges guards in disguise, It was the one

who was posing as the light fixture from earlier. 

He puts his hand over her mouth and drags her outside. Moments later the woman screams and a gun shot is heard.

“No body makes me cry my own tears.”, Says Spange, quietly to himself.

A man slowly makes his way to the microphone and begins to speak,

” Hi, my name is Barry Markowitz, I’m with the make a wish foundation. I know you have never signed an autograph before and

make it a point never to do so, but a little girl is dying in Nova Scotia and her only wish was to have you sign her Juggalo Shit

album cover. Do you think you can find it in your heart and make this one exception?”

Spange lets out a sigh.

“All I ever do is give to you people, and yet, you continually ask for more.”

Replies Spange.

” Her name is Sara, shes just a little girl, dying. Please.”, Barry begs.

Spange rises from out of the Throne and raises his hand.

People in the Audience gasp. 

Spange announces,

“Let it be known that I, Spange, am a generous god and will grant this..this…Sara person her wish.”

The audience rises to their feet and begins a barrage of camera flashes as Barry walks up the steps to hand spange

the album cover.

All the guards quickly aim their guns towards him.

Spange, once again, snaps his fingers and says, “Nigel. Pen. Now.”

Barry is startled as an arm comes from out of the floor between him and Spange.

It’s a guard posing as one of the steps on the stage, the one that was posing as the chair earlier.

Barry takes a step back as the guard gets up and hands Spange the pen.

” Her name is Sara, but she goes by the nickname of Karacalla. So if you could just make it out to that. That would be great.”,

Barry requests.

Spange holds up the pen and poses for the photographers.

He then begins to autograph the album cover.

“It’s Karacalla, Spelled with a K.”, Informs Barry.

Spange finishes writing and gives the man back the album cover, with his first and only know autograph in existence.

Reporters at the event go live, breaking in to every television and radio broadcast around the world to spread the news.

Suddenly the doors burst open and a man begins to yell,

“Stop! That man is an imposter! I am the real Barry Markowitz.”

as he points to the man with the album cover.

“Code six….Code six!!!!!”, one of the Navy seals begins to yell.

One of the guards pushes a button on a wireless transmitter and Spange, still sitting on his throne,

falls down a hidden corridor underneath him. He screams as he bounces of the walls, tumbling down in to the 

dark abyss.

The guards begin to open fire as the man with the album cover runs towards a glass window.

It shatters as he leaps through it, falling from the forty first floor of the tower.

Reporters and guardsmen gather around and watch as the man pulls a parachute and floats off in to

the night.

“Do you know how much that autograph is worth?”, A reporter rhetorically questions.

“Priceless.”, Replies one of the guardsmen.

Drunkalo said

Dude, that was pretty good, but you have way too much free time on your hands. Just thought a throw back jingle with a proven catchy hook could give the guy something to work with. Seems hes doing good by spending his time making music, not out on the streets. Could you imagine the Spange street gang? Lmao!

  

Actually, he should be out on the streets, then go back to making music. It would give him some actual context and prospective when writing those absurd “Gangsta” rhymes. 

You can tell this kid lives on a fucking farm somewhere and his only experience with African Americans and urbanality in general, is from old 90’s west coast hip hop.

What a joke.