Rap music for those trying to buy DaVinci paintings, jam Killa Season in their car, and fuck Seal’s ex-wife. So almost everybody. Cory Jreamz sneers that his DJ left him like Garnett did Rondo and says that he’s going to swap him out for Eric B. This is art-rap for the enraged with style and swagger: muddy, distorted, with tugboat horns that sound straight from the Swizz Beatz in 98 work-out plan. Or maybe they’re closer to Beats by the Pound.

Cory Jreamz is 19-years old from Houston. This is the third song I’ve heard from him. All sound like a gifted kid whose brain is ready to pop open like a pinata. Stress rap to snap your neck back. I don’t know if “Nina” is a girl from Argentina or the slang for being strapped. But the song is perfect in its brutality. The drum breakdown captures that decaying industrial wasteland vibe of El-P or Portishead, but the rhymes snarl from a Screwston citizen in thrall to Hemingway, David Lynch, and Marlon Brando. Learn the moves just like Selena.

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