The Lost Cause Comedy Vault Vol. I copertina

The Lost Cause Comedy Vault Vol. I

The Lost Cause Comedy Vault Vol. I

Di: Sunnï Blu Stone
Ascolta gratuitamente

Offerte di stagione | 0,99 €/mese per i primi 3 mesi

A seguire 9,99 €/mese – si applicano condizioni. Puoi disdire mensilmente.
Raw Comedy. Uncut. Unchained. Uncensored--And Unapologetic.
(Well, Almost.)
-Lost Cause.Unstoppable.Co
Arti dello spettacolo Spettacoli cabaret
  • 04. James Bond. (East Coast Mix) [Preview]
    Oct 29 2026
    It'll be awhile till the music video; so here's this and a link for the track: exclusively on TIDAL.

    https://tidal.com/track/574136554


    [Unreleased/ Untitled Mixtape - ‘Late Night Drive’]


    Written, Produced By C’cxell Soleïl + neocloud

    & Performed by Blū Tha Gürū


    [The Festival Project ™ ]

    The Complex Collective ©


    {Enter The Multivere}


    04. James Bond


    This motherfucker isn’t even funny!

    His dirty little fuckin’ brother might be even dumber;

    I wonder

    What kind of fuckin’ love spell I was under

    When i wrote this album

    Fuck it:

    That’s just how i won a Tony! (Tony!)

    The irony of Italy and throw in a third:

    Tony;

    You owe me,

    Like i’m the only fuckin lonely stoner full of

    ‘Gnochi?’--

    –Gn–Gno–??

    W–wait–

    Gnocchi?

    Nevermind,

    Fuck it.


    What you think i’m like a genie in a bottle, bro?

    Don’t even got a body, bro!

    And I am not a fuckin blondie

    But uh –

    That sounds good, yo…

    With chocolate chips–

    This must be the battle, cause i’m sinking ships

    Loose Lips,

    Dude this fuckin’ guy has got a big mouth,

    Like a blow fish

    I went low, sis,

    So you went hi-hoe, Snow White

    This life is hopeless

    I–

    Don’t know Pincohio:

    I know Jipetto’s broke and off his fuckin’ rocker,

    Down on his luck, but all I got is

    Frankenstein's Monster


    [I’M ALIVE.]


    –but barely, cause I drove my G6 off of a bridge and–


    [DIED.]


    In California

    Two blocks from the Brooklyn bridge in

    [Fi-Di]


    But I never walk over it;

    Cause I think of jumping off so much

    [I hate my life.]


    Call me Al Bundy
    Cause I hate my wife,

    Said every man!

    It’s badder than banter

    I got a cat in a hamper

    I’m microwaving a hamster

    Live on a fucking broadcast–

    I just turned the devil off

    Then I talk to God last,

    I got a medal of honor

    Cause once-upon i felt a hard blast

    Growing an apple tree so i can have a hard glass

    of hard cider

    Doing squats so I can have a hard ass


    She’s mad now,

    But i got a cash cow ,

    I went to a lash-brow bar tho,

    and afterward,

    It’s all gone (gone, gone!)

    Life is even harder when you’re not a blonde

    But suddenly my life is Lights, Camera, Action!

    Now i’m James Bond


    Dunadunadunaduna


    What up

    I’m on Wall and Broad Street

    Pulling up on Whole Foods market

    Got a silver Glock in my pocket

    Trench coat,

    I’m a Lost Cause

    And I got a lot of Balls

    You are mad that you are not me


    What up;

    I’m on Wall and Broad Street

    I’m a lost cause

    And I got a lot of Balls

    You are mad that you are not me


    Dunadunadunadunaduna

    Batman!


    James Bond


    Dunadunadunadunaduna



    My name is


    Dunadunadunadunaduna


    Batman!


    Nah!


    Dunadunadunadunaduna


    James Bond


    My name is

    James Bond


    My—my name is

    James Bond


    James Bond


    My—my—my

    Name is


    James Bond.


    {Enter The Multiverse}


    L E G E N D S


    Mostra di più Mostra meno
    3 min
  • Parallel Park [The Whip] - LA Drill | (Blū Tha Gürū)
    Oct 28 2026

    {Enter The Multiverse}


    Parallel Park [The Whip]


    Performed by Blū Tha Gürū

    Prod./Composed by C’cxell Soleïl + neocloud.

    Written By: C’cxell Soleïl


    UK Drill Hybrid NY Drill


    (Peep my attempt at a British accent. Lolz.)


    I wrote this song in LA pre-pandemic (2019-2020)

    Inspired by the hypnotic sound of my blinker, I had to parallel park so often in LA every time I did it I would rap using my blinker as a beat.


    Cool to finally breathe actual life into it.


    S/O


    To the west coast, I guess if there was a such thing as LA Drill, this is it.

    Working on accents, impressions and other funny stuff, the music is just a passion…

    Idk. Anyway.

    The full and complete Old School Hip Hop Mixtape Coming Soon, trying to figure out how to shoot the music video for the last single titled James Bond on a ltd. budget cause art costs out the nose these days.


    Link to the full mixtape soon, will be free to DL.

    Enjoy this lil Drill bop in the meantime, though.


    Love,

    -Blu.


    A Little History On The Subject:

    UK drill emerged primarily out of Brixton, South London around the early 2010s, spearheaded by crews like 67 who imported the stark, percussive aggression of Chicago drill and cross-pollinated it with indigenous UK soundsystem culture.

    That lineage directly intersects with dubstep's birth in neighboring Croydon, inheriting its low-end architecture: both subgenres share the foundational DNA of South London pirate radio, Jamaican dub pressure, syncopated half-time rhythms, and an obsession with cavernous, sub-bass weight.

    UK producers transmuted that sonic heritage into drill’s signature sliding 808 glides and frantic, syncopated hi-hat patterns—a distinct sonic alchemy discovered online by Brooklyn artists like Pop Smoke and Fivio Foreign, who sourced beats directly from British producers like 808Melo and AXL Beats to ignite the transatlantic phenomenon of New York drill.


    The Complex Collective ©

    [The Festival Project ™ ]


    ‘Parallel Park [The Whip]’ - Blū Tha Gürū

    Untitled/ Unreleased EP’

    Unstoppable.Co


    LYRICS:


    I parallel park the whip

    I parallel park the whip

    I pull up, I rip and I dip

    I parallel park the ghost

    You see me i'm doing the most


    Damn if I stamp it

    This is not the post office!

    I'm ballin!

    They're callin’ my phone;

    Step into the party--

    I'm coming alone;

    Pull off with the homie,

    I bought him a blonde;

    She show him her OnlyFans

    I get a percent back

    If she give him some dome!

    On The Low!

    I cannot park in the hood

    my rims are too chrome,

    And my exhaust

    Loud

    like I am a proud

    Boy

    Don't talk to me now,

    Boy

    I found a good spot

    And i'm tryna parallel park


    I parallel park the whip

    I parallel park the whip

    I parallel park the whip

    I

    Parallel park the Whip

    I parallel park the whip

    I parallel park the whip

    I parallel park the whip

    I parallel park the whip

    I parallel park the whip

    I parallel park the whip

    I

    Parallel park the Whip

    I parallel park the whip

    I parallel park the whip

    I parallel park the whip


    California kisses

    He fell in love he's calling me the Mrs.

    But miss me with that shit!

    I am a savage:

    Made man

    Rockefeller, Malkovich

    Space X, Billionaire

    Natural face,

    Fake hair

    Natural ass

    Waist Snatched

    Butter. lips

    Butterscotch interior;

    See your beater clearer in my rearview

    Than you see you in your mirror


    (You wish you could be here!)


    Cause

    I parallel park the whip

    I parallel park the whip

    I parallel park the whip

    I

    Parallel park the Whip

    I parallel park the whip

    I parallel park the whip

    I parallel park the whip

    I parallel park the whip

    I parallel park the whip

    I parallel park the whip

    I

    Parallel park the Whip

    I parallel park the whip

    I parallel park the whip

    I parallel park the whip


    Mostra di più Mostra meno
    2 min
  • Lost Cause: An Impromptu Talk With God.
    Oct 28 2026
    Excerpt - The Chronicles of WTFINT. MODERN ESTATE - LIVING ROOM - DAYA cavernous architectural expanse of cast concrete and austere luxury.CHARACTER NOTE: C.C. (played by Meryl Streep) is an ageless deity and primordial mystic disguised in mortal refinement. Across parallel timelines and cosmic shifts she assumes myriad forms, but in this realm she embodies Old Hollywood royalty—silver-screen elegance, supreme poise, and the chilling authority of an ancient power disguised in tailored silk.C.C. sits ensconced behind a sprawling low marble table. She remains entirely absorbed in her manuscripts, pen poised, an imperious sovereign whose authority requires neither volume nor effort.Her ASSISTANT (20s, hyper-attentive, subtly overwhelmed) hovers near the entry.C.C. (without looking up) Go into my glass case.ASSISTANT Which one?C.C. In the den.ASSISTANT The trophy room?C.C. In the den.INT. DEN / TROPHY GALLERY - CONTINUOUSDIRECTOR’S NOTE: The camera tracks slowly behind the Assistant into an intimidating, high-ceilinged rotunda lined with a curved panoramic window overlooking the precipitous canyon drops outside.Opposite the glass horizon stands an immense, built-in vitrine: tier upon tier of polished bronze, silver, crystalline monoliths, engraved medallions, and soaring statuary celebrating an exhaustive lifetime of prestige.The Assistant lingers framed in the threshold, utterly paralyzed by the overwhelming labyrinth of accolades.She blinks, exhales, and pivots back toward the living room.INT. LIVING ROOM - CONTINUOUSC.C. remains motionless over her documents, pen scratching steadily against parchment.ASSISTANT What did you need?C.C. Oh. Go into my glass case.ASSISTANT Okay?C.C. And get my trophy.The Assistant squints, bewildered by the sheer logistical impossibility.ASSISTANT Which one?C.C. The pretty one.A tense pause. The silence is broken only by the rhythmic scrawl of C.C.'s fountain pen.ASSISTANT Which one?C.C. You’ll know it when you see it.The Assistant swallows hard, nods submissively, and turns back.INT. DEN / TROPHY GALLERY - CONTINUOUSCLOSE UP - SHELVESThe Assistant paces slowly down the length of the illuminated glass cases. Gleaming brass wings, faceted quartz prisms, heavy gold wreaths. All of them possess an ornate, detached elegance.She arrives at the farthest alcove.ANGLE ON A LOWER SHELFTucked between two towering obelisks sits a solid bronze figurine: a sculpted, unclothed MAN. He carries a distinct boyishness—youthful features, an open, unassuming expression, and a magnetic grace.There is no engraved placard. No commemorative laurel.The Assistant slides the glass panel aside. The mechanism glides with a muffled hum.She lifts the figurine. It has noticeable density. She turns it over in her hands, searching for markings. Blank.She glances up at the sweeping glass window overlooking the sunlit abyss of the canyons, then down at the statue again.INT. LIVING ROOM - CONTINUOUSThe Assistant appears in the archway, holding the bronze figurine gingerly with both hands.C.C. lifts her eyes from her papers for the first time. A faint, knowing flicker in her gaze.C.C. Oh good, you’ve got it.The Assistant hesitates, disarmed by the sudden validation. She steps briskly to the low marble table and bends to set the statuette down.C.C. (CONT'D) (firm) No, not there.The Assistant snaps upright as if struck by a current.C.C. studies the space for a fraction of a second, then gestures dismissively toward the kitchen.C.C. (CONT'D) There. On the island.ASSISTANT Mmhmm.The Assistant complies, setting the bronze figure squarely on the pristine quartz island counter.C.C. Could you get me a water? And whatever you want.ASSISTANT Sure.INT. KITCHEN - CONTINUOUSThe Assistant pulls open the stainless steel refrigerator door. The heavy door obscures the hallway alcove directly behind it.She retrieves a chilled glass bottle of sparkling water and a mineral water carafe from the interior shelf.REVEAL SHOTShe swings the refrigerator door shut.Standing directly where the open door had masked the view is a completely NAKED MAN (early 20s, olive Irish complexion dusted with light freckles, soft pink lips, and dark brown eyes brimming with a wide-eyed, boyish innocence—evoking a young, fresh-faced Jimmy Fallon).The Assistant drops both bottles. They strike the hardwood floor with a deafening rattle; one rolls wildly under the lower cabinets.ASSISTANT Oh!Flushed crimson, the Assistant drops instinctively to her knees, averting her eyes while scrambling to trap the spinning bottle.The naked man remains motionless, standing on the polished floorboards like a recently unpacked museum relic, his face completely serene and unblemished.C.C. (O.S.) (calm, flat, from the other room) There’s a towel.Scrambling on all fours, shielding her peripheral vision with an upturned forearm, the Assistant blindly reaches for a linen dishcloth hanging off the oven handle.Without looking directly at him, she extends the small ...
    Mostra di più Mostra meno
    54 min
adbl_web_anon_alc_button_suppression_t1
Ancora nessuna recensione