I would apologize for the hiatus, but after embedding this EP in my brain for the past few days, I could kill 10 kittens, spit in the face of the 5-year-olds they belong to, and then go listen to a Raffi record at my parents spot with a grin. Featuring production efforts of the wound-erous Every and filthy vocal flow from an axe murderer with the titled moniker J|||||M, VICE GRIP clenches you with its hip-pop sexual harassment and rapes your conscious. Ask me where my dreams at? Smoked 'em. Oh shit.