We’ve updated our Terms of Use to reflect our new entity name and address. You can review the changes here.
We’ve updated our Terms of Use. You can review the changes here.

Not A Ghost​.​.​.​.​But Dead Inside

by Extra Kool

/
  • Streaming + Download

    Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.
    Purchasable with gift card

      $10 USD  or more

     

  • Record/Vinyl + Digital Album

    STRAWBERRY PINK TRANSLUCENT vinyl

    Includes unlimited streaming of Not A Ghost....But Dead Inside via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.
    ships out within 7 days

      $25 USD or more 

     

1.
Googly Eyes 02:07
Welcome to Not A Ghost….But Dead Inside. Welcome to the gates of hell, fresh dripped in sour tales. Hecka caught the googly eyes for purple hair and coffin nails. It’s deep red or Wavy Beats, It’s Just Bugs. Still awake you caught me sleepwalking stealing fist bumps. Crushed each and every line until devoid of liberties. See me standing at the end of the lines, and I did that shit deliberately. I’m so exasperated my shadow stand in tandem. My plumage like a peacock in the hands of Suzy Bannion. Witches! Burn the steak and make em pay up all the sales tax, empty pack of matches wearing my Black and Gray Air Max. Traction, I’ve lost the path decisive action, I’m running with no headlights like that scary movie Baskin. I calmly weep at night so you know I keep my fingers crossed, smile through my nervous teeth, I finally pissed the cretins off. Lost, or so they say great googly moogly. I’m counting till the great beyond, I strut like groovy ghoulies. Huh! Eat, sleep, walk fast, kiss, climb, cut class, count sheep, hush off, till death. It’s aftermath. I’m here to say that Wavy Beats is not a ghost. Not a ghost, not a ghost. I’m here to say that Satyre is not a ghost. Not a ghost, not a ghost. I’m here to say that AwareNess is not a ghost. Not a ghost. Not a ghost. I’m here to say that Big Time is not a ghost. Not a ghost. Not a ghost.
2.
(Hook) Mr. mister, mr. Rabbit Mr. mister, mr. Rabbit Mr. mister, mr. Rabbit Mr.Rabbit’s causing havoc, the epidemic is feeling real good. (2x) (V.1) I’ll probably ghost before I put this all together, not a saint but whatever, I’m a tiny Toxic Avenger, huh. The Whack Lagoon is here to kill the aesthetics, it’s the Creature as it were I’m feeling booty like Fabletics now. Hush-hush and watch me bring it to a whisper, it’s hecka funny how it seems I’m chasing times to make it simpler, not spring still the winter and I have course a man of levity. I’m forever like your mortgage, watch me change my name to equity. Hey Fumes! I hope I did your beat some justice, yes I’m humbled like a handshake snacking on some tea and crumpets, open heavens blast the trumpets Mr. Rabbit’s saying something, not a thing about your comfort, marching war pigs by the hundreds facts. I’m a waste, I’m a theory like I’m chemtrails, lavender like the color and now I’m waiting just to exhale. Pick a card cause I’ve got nothing up my sleeves, but watch em tumble from my mouth like deciduous trees. (Hook) (V.2) Mount em up, my trusty steed I called em War Pigs. It’s time to march and now we’re off stomping through your orchids. No need to panic cause I’m sweeter than a lollipop, sitting silence in the snow, I’m freezing like an Otter Pop. Their killer smiles, hecka bougie like a fashion show, but I’ve been known to kill smiles, as a matter of fact I find it comical. It’s ironical like fake words to change the course, I’m kind of lackadaisical but I’m gonna get mine like intercourse. I mean hush, I’m going to walk into the sunset, a catchall in my hands with broken limbs I’m feeling suspect. We’re false faces, as a matter of fact were false society. Mr. Rabbit knows my name and that of course brings anxiety so. War Pigs & black tea or black goats. Taste the warpaint on my hands and my mouth will say nope. (Hook)
3.
Smile Killer 04:00
I had a dream, that I got to wear all of Slick Rick’s jewelry. I just thought you guys should know that. (V1) No joke smiles killed, pause for the light feeling fancy still. Just stop breathe the daffodils, till I spell my name with a fancy quill. Eilish on the t-shirt, huh. Can’t smell a thing, watch it burn like either. Cheap words, ghosts for the creeper, still feeling cute in my brand new sneakers. I am the great pretender, here to burn it down my hands or embers, remember I’m the ender, sharp tooth grin and a ooey gooey center. This is the gilded ages, fully sunshine no mask, contagious. Outrageous till the wardrobe changes, these ossuary eyes, I’m so salacious. Goddamn man my knees hurt, please Lord give a badge for big words. Lift skirts, live on your knees first, earth shakes I’m a grand mal seizure. I am your touch of opulence, war torn hands, these hands are consequence. No honest that’s what caustic is, here to tear down & kill your confidence. Oh please that’s gonna roll sleeves, so old it’s bad backs for the OGs, no grieves, stay feeling lonely here to taint smiles like a mouth full of codeine. I’m staying sycophantic, cool, calm, nauseous so romantic. No antics that’s the problem kids, dead to the talks and the rest is obvious. (Hook) Quell it or kill it. You can’t sell smiles with a silver bullet. But I can turn ghost and I like that, turn spirit, chill like an ice pack. Cause I’m a smile killer. You know a smile killer, these jokes are lemonade, it’s kind of wrong but I’m the filler. Cause I’m a smile killer. Your friendly smile killer. These eyes are sour life, but that’s all right because I don’t give a! Quell it or kill it. You can’t sell smiles with a silver bullet. But I can turn ghost and I like that, turn spirit, chill like an ice pack. Cause I’m a smile killer. Your favorite smile killer. This goat is Halloween, but that’s all right cause I’m the killer. (V2) Francesco Dellamorte, blank taste like a bowl of cornflakes, so fake make ya skip the foreplay, rush to the finish no play but okay! They say I’m arbitrary, an inner dialogue yes commentary, no worries I’ma scoff and scurry, let em fully hush off I’m a luminary. Or not, so bleak in a black mask, gray face, no cape, no contrast. No nots, no nothings, no honest! Skip to my Lou with a broken compass. That’s right tiny conundrum. Let’s eat, the rest of em ho-hums, po-ems? Well that’s my problem, it’s hard to dissipate even less in Gotham. You want that face in here, can’t place the taste in here. I, I think those thoughts unwanted, now don’t waste those smiles here. (2x) Think tank, breaks to the old days, mad dash watch em break over old age. Well played clip limbs from the bouquet, so slow like a game of croquet. I say the rest is obvious, calm to the breeze my breath is ominous. My luck I’ma flex the opposite, grins no more, this kid’s obnoxious. (Hook)
4.
Bleeder 03:58
(V1) I do that which toe dragger in those Air Max 90s. Fangs like Bela, hi-jinks feeling grimy. Songs breathing lively, breath still inside me, A mouth full of stitches & two tusks of pure ivory. But it’s all for not, kiss scopes or kick rocks, no time for quips, it’s sidewalks & hop Scotch. Singing hot damn, another waster on the lifespan, why should I please? Spread wings like I’m Moth Man. St. OZ, save face, paint then taste loss. It’s time to turn it off or burn it down like Saint Maude. It’s a lost cause, the blank taste makes me fast forward. Bobby Razor Face killing dust on my soldiers. No time for quotas, I’m the king of the has-been, the monster on your stairs with a naked Barbara Crampton. Not a ghost but handsome, the Argento of this rap shit. With a bowl of Count Chocula it’s another Denver classic. (Hook) I’m so superior like Argento‘s “Suspiria.” While the rest are remakes, still great yet inferior. I’m the monster on your stairs with the naked Barbara Crampton. (2x) (V2) As you were, I’m sycophantic for the last word. I’m the outstretched wings of a thousand tiny blackbirds. Okay, let’s play close, hey break a leg. I sincerely love life like a bright pink razor blade. Touché, to coin the term, say well played. We called it decadence like a spoonful of aspartame. But still hungry, no lies something crunchy, got butterflies in my wallet yo & moths in my tummy. It’s hecka funny, you can go and have the have nots. No sleep & 40 winks will lock me down like it’s padlocks. But what’s first? I’ma giggle until my sides hurt, when it’s time to take a wife, I’m calling Natalie Sideserf. For what it’s worth, Englewood KREEPS, I’m feeling queasy. It is what it is, I want my very own Khaleesi. But I digress, the Herbert West of this rap shit. It’s time to turn it off and read the loving closed captions. (Hook)
5.
Bela Lugosi grins, button ups & plastic chains. Suddenly I’m Waster One with a mouth full of plastic fangs. I got a false face, new phases took-en. I’m glitching like I’m Frankenhooker with purple hair and Patty Mullen. No need to know me, but my mama called me Danny boy, I’m strutting like a Sombor Shuffle, I’m classic like your corduroys. I’m VHS to you BETA-MAX & cottontails. I’m Dario in Technicolor, I guess the Blu-Ray is alpha male. I’m outdated on the second phase of last lives, it’s time to put your quarter up and watch me kill my appetite. Now that’s life, before sleep I want to stretch my limbs, or go and toss a flick on. “A Lizard in a Woman’s Skin.” Yo you ever see that? Highly recommended. It’s definitely, definitely worth the watch man.
6.
(V1) I’m laying on the bedroom floor staring at the ceiling. Watching the cobwebs dance through the light of the evening. The television glows, turning lights into tracers. Feeling snidely like I’m whiplash, I was born from cartoon capers. So I sit up and now I’m staring out the window, to a pitch black night with Christmas lights and no crescendo. I got the Ouija board next to me, a twist in curiosity, I’ve risen like I’m folklore, no breath & no dichotomy. soooo. (Hook) Cat dead. Details later. Got a wave bye-de-bye, see you later alligator. Turn the television off, please fam, please forgive me. Move the planchette on the board I’m playing Mario and Ouija. (2x) (V2) I keep the head down, I’m slightly singing too much. I’m saltier by the hour and I’m hardly giving two fucks. A fault line keeping time like a pendulum, like Latin in it’s origin meaning felled, an Occidendum. It’s Mr. Crispy, Mr. X and now it’s Extra Kool. I want to hide inside of fibs, but I only speak in absolutes. And that’s the truth. I’m a happy kind of catastrophe, no smiles in my absence. Feel free to feel the atrophy. (Hook) (V3) I lean forward, no fate, no cozy rabbit ears. I’m a fake form of disrespect, the strange color of your body‘s tears. Under the skin, here I go, I twiddle my thumbs. I’m no stranger to disappointment, you can calmly ask my loved ones. I dual fate and I do it enthusiastically, I’ve been known to exaggerate, I’m moving backwards but do it gradually. Yes or no, Saints & Devils stroking hearts. Turn the television on for all the colors of the dark. Soooo. (Hook) I gotta say today I’m feeling lovely. I can feel it in my ribs even though nobody loves me. (3x)
7.
Ain’t it pretty, I don’t know, these murdered crows cause obstacles. Which makes it hard to giggle, and I find that kind of comical. I’ma call it balderdash, see what you will, nobody asked. I’m hungry with these potions like a certain type of alchemist. Alchemy. Black mask. Purple hands. Set traps. Clocked out, holding candle with a purple matches at black mass. (2x) Anyhow not a ghost, and now I’m saying adios. It’s all about that comfort really. Vamonos Muchachos. Anyways, what he say? Before he gives it all away. It is what it is and you can blame it on my dookie chain. 24 bars ain’t shit to me. I’d rather shoot look daggers and cry myself to sleep. I say, 24 bars ain’t shit to me. I got that resting bitch face, and now I need some sleep. Huh!
8.
Villain 03:43
(V1) Move the planchette, no head spaced for antics, moth balled the philosophy with a mouth full of theatrics. BUT WHO ARE YOU TALKING TO? Nowadays I’m not sure, most of the time it’s all me, and other days it’s Ouija boards. I’m not a hush, at worst case I’m tantrums. These walls are sturdy, fortified. BUT CAN YOU REALLY SPOT THE PATTERNS? It doesn’t matter. Once the engine purrs it’s over kids. Here I stand, not a ghost but I can’t seem to comfort it. Stuck in daydreams, laid down I’m pillow headed, cloudy minded, red eyes, a system full of Sudafed. But that’s what it’s like when you’re gone or simply out of it. Hands down or hands clutched, and older than the alphabet. (Hook) But am I doing this right? Should I quit and move on? Should I pack up my things? Or keep singing these songs? Am I doing this right? Or am I doing this wrong? Should I walk against the wind? Or keep singing the songs? (V2) Am I doing this right? Do my needs count? Am I any less of a man if I don’t speak out? I’ll tell you the truth right now because I’m obligated. Some lust while others love and that’s why we congregated. A little flesh on flesh, we called it sex. One filled the void while the other tried to connect. And that’s where I failed, because fucking skews reality. I’m laying in the witch grass, I’m a cult of personality. SO WHAT DO YOU DO? Nothing much, I guess I play the hand I asked for. Rebounding like I’m Jokic, finding ways to clean the backboard. No need to panic watching nature take advantage. Even though we picked abortion, nature forced the miscarriage. I can’t help it I’m still filled with guilt. I’m extremely pro choice even as the blood spilled. But that’s life and I still love & dream about it. It’s made me who I am and I can’t seem to live without it. I’m not a father & nor do I wanna be, I’m entirely too selfish and that’s putting it cautiously. The rest fled, no jest, I rest in bed, God bless until I’m dead, or face justice like Judge Dredd. So. (Hook) (2x) Not A Ghost….But Dead Inside. VVS Tears. Extra Kool.

about

The 10th studio album from Denver's own Extra Kool, but his first under the CREATURE, CREATURE Records moniker.

Booking info - mr.extrakool@gmail.com
@extra_kool on Twitter
Facebook.com/extrakooldenver
Dirty Laboratory Music / CREATURE, CREATURE Records.

credits

released August 27, 2021

Album recorded in Denver Colorado by Satyre & Kyle Zender.

All songs written by D.Vincennie for "A Mouth Full Stitches Music ASCAP" except for "Plastic Fangs" written by D.Vincennie / AWOL ONE / Illogic / Onry Ozzborn.

Beautiful background vocals on "Mario & Ouija" by Lauren Ellacorvo.

Track #1 produced by Patrick from "It's Just Bugs."
Tracks #2,5,6 Produced by Fumes The Threat.
Track #3 produced by Satyre
Track #4 produced by Maulskull
Tracks #7,8 produced by VVS Tears
Cuts on "Resting Bitch Face" by DJ Contrast.

Album artwork/collage made by D.Vincennie

license

all rights reserved

tags

about

Extra Kool Denver, Colorado

An archly fearless live performer, Extra Kool challenges his audiences with an unwavering stare and a direct and hauntingly intense vocal delivery. Part modern-day Dadaist, part hip-hop art terrorist, Extra Kool is the essence of truth in advertising.
(Tom Murphy)
... more

contact / help

Contact Extra Kool

Streaming and
Download help

Redeem code

Report this album or account

If you like Extra Kool, you may also like: