Comethazine is one of the rising skating, rapping, rhyming, prolific displays of the Los Angeles hip-hop scene. With the vocal energy and performance, Comethazine quickly grabs the listener and pulls them through a circus of fast cars, burning globes, and Demi Lovato.
His newest singles started to gain some traction and a high anticipation came with the announcement of his project, Bawskee. A reference to his collective, Comethazine already had an A-list of features and production that stemmed back into his own persona. He was a joy to hear and added this hardcore element to the current state of an already in-your-face attitude of music.
As Bawskee begins to form with “Walk”, the structure of Comethazine’s style is on the forefront with booming 808’s and a shattering synth that moves in a crescendo-ing, almost ethereal state. “I walk around like that nigga, finger on the trigger, if a nigga want some smoke I let the choppa eat his liver,” is thrown as the chorus of the track and the minute and 36-second obliteration attacks as a driving force behind the Bawskee tape. More than half of the tracks on Bawskee are less than two-minutes long, forcing an assault of search-and-destroy tactics to form from Comethazine.
Charming as ever on Bawskee, Comethazine explains behind a twisted, almost fractured lens, “I go koo-koo I go dummy, lean up in my tummy…And my wrist is frozen, need to throw it in the oven. Yes I took your bitch to my crib, no discussion.” To then the ultra, hypersensitive punch of “Blicky” where Comethazine is a raging animal as he screams “Blicky, Blicky, Bitch I keep my blicky” as a rampage and true inferno of 808’s and rattling hi-hats spazz on the track. It is one of the heavier tracks on the tape and works as a performance piece.
A vulgar display of true sour ability, Comethazine leaps in an unapologetic advancement in what could be called one of the better releases of his career. A full length release that correctly captures his essence and the ultimate direction of his music. Destructive, energetic, and ultimately a great way to stir the pot of the nearly genre-less direction in music. Bawskee hops in a coupe, speeds off with middle fingers blaring as Comethazine is behind the wheel.