Crom Royale

Crom Royale

 Miami, Florida, USA
SoloHip HopIndie

i've been authoring the raps since Crayola crayon boxes had the sharpener on the back

Biography

Born and raised in Metro Detroit, Crom Royale's style has been heavily influenced by his middle-class upbringing as a multiracial teen in a predominately white suburb.

Struggling to establish his own racial identity with both black and white students, Crom turned to hip-hop as a way to creatively verbalize his emotions, fears, strengths and aspirations. 

Ironically, his diversity became one of his strongest assets; his verses appeal to all listeners, regardless of their race or preferred music genre.

By utilizing elements of visual storytelling with various literary techniques, Crom Royale's lyrics resemble the narrative prose of an author, not the generic ramblings of just another unsigned rapper.

Crom Royale is a graduate of Full Sail University with a Bachelor's Degree in Creative Writing for Entertainment. 

He currently resides and records in Miami, FL

Lyrics

Midnight Society

Written By: Crom Royale

I submit this for approval from the Midnight Society

It's me bitches
Even genies won't even redeem my three wishes
Vicious, beat snitches till they need stitches
Delicious, fresher than a load of clean dishes
And this shit is all I dream of
If you mean-mug meet my mini machine gun
Protecting my freedom, whatever the reason
With three guns while yelling the Pledge of Allegiance (!!!!!)
If you said that you're getting a refund
Then I guarantee you'll end up beheaded for treason
I was the reason for them parent-teacher meetings
Cause I'll steal your fucking skeleton and wear it trick-or-treating
So what I mean is I can murder a tape deck
My verses take words and convert 'em to .jpegs
I ain't dead (bitch) I resurrected with eight legs
To make webs to catch motherfuckers and break heads
It makes sense my friends turned into my enemies
So I grab a pen, freeze their heads cryogenically
I thought I said that I can shred the instrumental
This pencil's been writing Legends like the Hidden Temple
Do it for the love (FUCK THAT!) I love money
My best buddy's bright green like I'm Doug Funnie (!!!!!)
I used to get teased for my teeth, Bugs Bunny
I've been unfunny since I ripped outta my mama's tummy
Until I get a buck, I'm letting the pen erupt (what)
In my cup is Hennessy and Beginner's Luck
Brain freeze ready, you might need a medic
My flow alone known to give 'em ice cream headaches
Forget it, my toxic got 'em runnin outta oxygen
I'm the opposite of an antioxidant
I'm the the fucking blot in your esophagus
It's obvious I'm not the hospital visit you wanna miss
If you wanna diss, so word to the wise
You heard the words that I rhyme are sure to burn 'em alive
So if you smirk and describe my work you're hurting my pride
I hope all you fucking haters get murdered and die!!
In MY cemetery see my bed's that coffin
Wake up and watch to see a dead man walking
Up Clarkston, down Joslyn, past Baldwin
So if you see me, just proceed with mad caution

Stream of Consciousness

Written By: Crom Royale

If I can see you moving out the corner of my eye
I'm Slaughter-House Five, cause in order to survive
I was brought up to provide but I'm caught up in a lie
So I stay in a disguise til I'm saying who I am?
I can smell blood leak into my dreams
And if I close my eyes, I can see it on the screen
I understand what the meaning is to me
I made a promise I would keep it in my jeans
So I'm breaking down syllables, certain individuals
Working individual, get murdered for the ritual
The land where herds of the lamb converted digital
I'm Newport Short, ignore the Surgeon General
Fuck that go and show me where my Legos at
Before I hang you by the cord of my Nintendo set
I gotta bottle deposit now where my regos at?
I got indo that'll have you asking where the windows at
Competition-wise, not a lot to fear
I don't buy my own albums, I just copy it and share
If you wear headphones, then be aware
Or prepared cause my product give you cauliflower ear
Ew… so say whatchu meant to
I got ammo in my semi-auto mechanical pencil
Product of suburbia, mulatto undercover
Like the new millennium Indian Living in the Cupboard
Cash Rules Everything Around Me too
Idolize the loot, mile-high salute
I'm fresher than the juice thatch find inside the fruit
On a tree where it grew right before it gets removed
I don't make an appearance at the bar
If I do I gotta parrot on my arm like Jafar
Or, me and my girl'll disappear into her car
She can eat it till tomorrow like she's Harold and Kumar
Plus I got the chronic that'll get her very calm
Light it up, here's another hit Barry Bonds
Despicable Me
I replace every face in the photos you take with a picture of me
Crom Royale, no longer a shit-taker
My sick nature is as smart as a 5th graders
The devil made me do since Heaven was never meant for me
It's been a century ever since Webber Elementary
If every sentence causes tension when you mention me
I'll turn your crew into a fucking Human Centipede
Ask how, I'll rap till you pass out
Then stitch you and two bitches up ass to mouth
Uh, I'm a villain on the mic
The kid with the skin that's sorta light cause I is a quarter white
But you're not really a villain on the mic
You need to stop trying, you'll never be a giant
Damn, I'm the original villain on the mic
I'll deliver on the promise I'ma kill 'em overnight
I'm cooler than the side of the pillow thatchu like
And my freestyle mean but I'm Godzilla when I write
So, with this rapping, I gotta make it happen
I ain't the mascot but I know how to train your Dragon
Hi haters, I never got to say thanks
I'm mad about my past so I act like Tyra Banks
Thinking that your better than anybody is stupider
Than trying to MY judge and jury and executioners

Arrested Development

Written By: Crom Royale

My name is Matt and I came to rap
And I never change my hat like that Animaniac
Cause maybe I mainly rap for these lazy ass kids*
And white trash ladies eating baby back ribs*
Pleased to meetcha, please twist the reefa
Sniff this ether till you think I'm Wiz Khalifa
I don't need for you to make me be the Grim Reaper
Cause I ain't scared of you, them, her, him neither

Used to chase bitches back when they wasn't ready
Going steady with them heavy broads, all the Ugly Bettys
Upsetting if another lover just becomes an enemy
All because amber is the color of her energy
Dammit, I'm the worst rapper on the planet
But my artworks hard cause I carved it outta grantie
Fuck talent, guess I can't rap of that caliber
I'd rather grab fruit to smash like I'm Black Gallagher

...My intelligence isn't tested
Every element of irrelevance isn't questioned
So domestically my development's been arrested
Like if someone who's celibate gets molested
My step-kids say I'm kinda like a Nazi
If a motherfucking Nazi had this many Tomagotchi's
Mini Beanie babies that I bet are worth a fortune
Power Ranger belt buckles that they used for morphin
… Don't laugh at my bowl cut
Or I'll fuck your ass up till you're ass can't close shut
I'm just being honest cause I isn't whatcha usta
Seducing old fogey just to kick her in the FUPA
… I still find new lines to fill rhymes
I'm unsigned, shit I'm just looking to kill time
So I smashed my Timex then it broke apart purposely
Flipped it over and proceeded open heart surgery

Verbally attack 'em if you talk with no manners
Got Sonic Hedgehoggin' every Pog but my Slammer
Mixed race rapper, half-cracker, what paradox
Wearing Jnco jeans and motherfucking Airwalks
… My mama's mama was a carrot-top
That explains why I like to smoke, drink, and swear a lot
Ballin' on a budget bitch, this is not a movie
My rollerblades were signed by Kristy Yamaguchi
Bugs Bunny got his clothes backwards on my t-shirt
The lights in my yo-yo's give so-and-so a seizure
My demeanor is like Jesus when it's Easter
So tell these non-believers they can kiss between my keister

Crom Royale Tenenbaum

Written By: Crom Royale

All my life I've been the opposite of popular
I've been on the outskirts watching through binoculars
Now I handle mine, I'm not known to pantomime
Speak my mind, you can call me Crom Royal Tenenbaum
I'm not a writer, I'm a rapper with a manuscript
How you like them apples? Red Delicious or a Granny Smith
My banana split makes your lady's panties rip
I have a list of naughty girls longer than what Santa gets
… I'm not a sex addict
I just have some kinda "send my dick pictures attached to a text" habit
This addiction always gets the better half of me
I swear to God that Applebee's bag just made a pass at me
… Caressing her breast rapidly
You have to see in person my passion for chest cavities
You can play the good girl, I can play be enemy
Experiment with hidden cameras like I'm Jamie Kennedy
My disease every day look stronger
I've become a master-level Facebook stalker
It's not all my fault I circumvent, the hurdles when
You're the one, with all the pictures got your titties popping out your turtleneck
Get a fucking clue, it's time for something new
Or do nothing, fuck it, guess where all my blood's rushing to?
My wenis I mean it, it's in my weenie
I'm creepy, I'll be your neighbor forever like Mr. Feenie
Women think I'm demeaning, I don't think they know the meaning
I mean, I hate any slut that won't suck on my fucking penis!!
My belief is these girls are so elitist
Your boots were made for walking? Well, so were these adidas
When I'm on the road, take no prisoners
I'll be in the home crowd, rooting for the visitors
Look, I've been in it, diminishing opposition
My writtens in compositions are ripping the competition
Admit it, I've never given a shit about cynics
I'm committed to limit the cynicism printed by critics
But I didn't wanna live with all the shit I prevented
So instead I let my ego get too bloated for my fitted
Gotta boulder that could roll off of my shoulder any minute
But I'm only as important as the stories I invented
I'm my own apprentice, so lonely, co-dependent
I should mention I'm relentless til my goals are apprehended
I've had it with these idiots
It's audio, it doesn't fucking matter who's the prettiest
New World, gotta swagger bad enough to kill again
I can show you how Columbus handled all them Indians
Massacre and pillaging the villages and fill a bridge
With silhouettes of militants that murder every villains This
syllabus I filled it with syllables of gibberish
I'm ignorant, limp dick as impotent as licorice
I gotta package I don't wanna send it out though
What's in the box? It belongs to Gwyneth Paltrow
Still love haters, but the same love'll bury ya
I was born to hunt like a Jack Russell terrier
So don't provoke me by promoting your friend
…You'll get your limbs broken with the stroke of a pen
I know you think I'm only known to joke and pretend
But I'll offend until I overdose from coke and I'm dead

Dark Minded

Written By: Crom Royale

His head is full of ashes
Detachment, socially a chemical reaction
His actions make you gasp like an asthmatic
Inside his soul suffers like the Black Sabbath
But I ain't trying to sell it, I just wanna tell it
And describe it so you can motherfucking smell it
… Sometimes his mind gets so jealous
If he sees her walking home alone with unknown fellas
… So it starts off as a mystery at first
Projected in his brain, he's only picturing the worst
Like, black-and-white sad-looking pictures of a church
Or worse, she'll be another rock sticking in the dirt
It hurts… cause he can still smell her perfume
Infused with memories of staying after curfew
He lied when he said to her, "I never meant to hurt you"
"I love you" and "I'm leaving" -- well, he lied about the first two
… but when he saw her laugh with another man
His brain began formulating yet another plan
Damn, he realizes she'll never love him again
Never touch him, not even try hugging him as a friend
Just remember what your therapist said
How the void that she left hasn't repaired in your head yet
And you really shouldn't murder her
I'm sure her nipple skin's fabulous fabric for your furniture
So listen, you gotta pay attention to this mission
You can't just fucking grab it, first you have ask permission
… From that part of your brain that makes decisions
Inquisitions, his memory's like a prison
… He can still remember their last kiss
Wished it would've lasted long enough to get chapped lips
Tasted like lollipop wrappers and Chap Stix
Did backflips for bitches like the shit was gymnastics
And let the history show, thats why his misery grows
Until it rose into a slippery slope
… Which culminates into the silliest convictions
He assumes all responsibility to fix it
Conflicted, he couldn't figure what he was missing
Addicted to risking everything he had for this bitch
… He'll never let it go, reject her
Cause he's been watching way too many episodes of Dexter
… But everything he did was to protect her
He must've misrepresented every single gesture
I guess if he wasn't to let her breathe
He didn't wanna kill her, he wanted to set her free
I wanted her to be in first place, instead of me
Because i'll always be behind her kinda like the letter B is
And she is my A but I am dark minded
Cause anywhere there's blood in the waters, this shark finds it

Discography

The Practice - We Here Now (2002)
The Noise - This Is The Noise (2007)
Crom Royale - The Matthew Cromwell EP (2011)
Crom Royale - Demo (2012)
Crom Royale - Voodoo (2015)