The flower-stomping Zilla Rocca flips Shallah Rae’s wrongly over-looked contribution to the BlackRoc project. The Philly noir-rap originator slants in the shadows, sneaking behind graf-scarred walls and thickets that threaten to engulf him. “17 Days in Va” is the title and Zilla knows about the pounds stashed down there and the lack of qualify craft beer. The beard deserves a video of its own, rivaling Bronson and James Harden for most likely to cause envy in a Mennonite.

Over the best beat the Black Keys ever made, Zilla uses the rotgut guitars and sloppy powerful drums to create a shaky tale of pills at 50 bucks a batch and gyros at 3 bucks a pop. He sneers at the bartender to never serve up a neat whiskey. “Lots of rocks.” It’s supposed to be dirty as playground asphalt, a Morse code avalanche of words and antagonists who shuffle in and get laid out.  Heat stashed in vests and shout outs to military friends who never talked about the trail of dead. “That’s a real shooter for you, cowards,” Zilla lets the last line linger, no need for your fake smoke.

This bullet is taken from his Neo-Noir mixtape, where he re-works an array of Kevlar cuts from The Gaslamp Killer to Javelin, Mexicans with Guns to yU of Diamond District. He and Doseone also destroy a Clammy Clams beat. I have endorsed Zilla for a very long time and I genuinely believe he continues to evolve into one of the most unique and best-writers in hip-hop. This tape is thoughtful, intricate, and available on cassette. It’s ideal to get the mud unclogged from uour ears.

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