Скачать или смотреть Frizla ft. Big Splity - Muckahh Madness

“Muckahh Madness”

takes you deep inside the gritty, relentless world of Cazza & Hakea Prison, where survival is a game of desperation and hustle. This raw track paints a vivid picture of prison life, where food is currency and everyone’s looking for their next hit, whether it’s “muckahh” ( a feed/The Nubs) or the next bag. The song explores the dangerous cycle of addiction, betrayal, and the unspoken rules of a world where survival means staying one step ahead. With a message about the dangers of needle-sharing, this song serves as a warning about the price of addiction and the harsh realities of life behind bars. The dark, rebellious tone reflects the pain and struggles of those trying to keep their heads above water in a system that’s stacked against them.

Lyrics:

“Muckahh Madness”

(Verse)
In these greens, we live, in these greens, we roam,
Don’t see no colors, just these prison walls, home.
Steel doors slam, time moving slow,
Only thing that matters—when’s the next feed, bro?

“Bro, we hungry, where’s the feed at?”
Yellin’ through the yard, that’s where it’s at.
No love for the system, it’s a stingy game,
Try to play clean, still get hit with shame.

(Hook)
Muckahh for breakfast, muckahh for lunch,
Fuck that food, I ain’t eatin’ no junk.
Thursday come ‘round, chicken up for trade,
But a hit of that muckahh? That’s a real upgrade.


Brothers rolling up, “Got a milky barrel, mate?”
I don’t even use, but they still test my fate.
“Hey buddy, stop askin’, I ain’t got no stash,”
But if you got the price, that muckahh might splash.

No spoons, just rigs, passed around,
Junkies in the corner, eyes rollin’ down.
Prison life grimy, gotta hustle and stack,
But when that Thursday hit, we all doubling back.

(Hook)
Muckahh for breakfast, muckahh for lunch,
Fuck that food, I ain’t eatin’ no junk.
Thursday come ‘round, chicken up for trade,
But a hit of that muckahh? That’s a real upgrade.

(Bridge)
Ain’t no difference between rich or poor,
Inside these walls, hunger’s at war.
No silver spoon, just rigs and veins,
Trade ya whole meal just to numb the pain.


Seen a brother fold for a single shot,
Whole yard watching like, “Damn, he’s lost.”
But when the cravings hit, it don’t matter at all,
Even the hardest get weak for that call.

So we line up, hustle, play the game,
Thursday’s the only time the system change.
Cash is dead, it’s all about trade,
And muckahh the only thing that hold real weight.


Sharing that rig, it’s a dangerous game,
One shot could end you, it ain’t worth the fame.
HIV creeps, you don’t wanna know,
It’s a silent killer, lurking real slow.

Hep C’s there, just waiting to strike,
A blow to your liver, man, that ain’t right.
Gamble your life, all for a high,
But the cost of a soul ain’t worth a quick lie.

That needle’s a weapon, ain’t no coming back,
One bad hit, you on the wrong track.

(Hook)
The cost of a life, worth more than an ox pack,
Don’t trade your health for a hit, take it back.
No fix worth the risk, ain’t no point in that,
One wrong shot, and you’re never comin’ back.

(Outro)
So think twice before you take that hit,
Your soul’s the price, and it’s hard to admit.
The muckahh’s tempting, but it ain’t worth the fall,
Remember what’s real, you’re better than it all.

Keep your head up, don’t be a pawn in the game,
The world’s got you beat, don’t let it claim your name.
Cazza’s the cage, but you’re more than the cell,
Stay true to yourself, break the cycle, break the spell.

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