ELUCID, Sebb Bash, & billy woods - The Lorax
Experimental hip-hop artist ELUCID joins forces with producer Sebb Bash and acclaimed lyricist billy woods on the dark and thought-provoking track “The Lorax.” The song appears on the collaborative album I Guess U Had To Be There, released in March 2026 and produced entirely by Sebb Bash.
Blending dense lyricism with atmospheric production, the track highlights the creative chemistry between ELUCID and billy woods, longtime collaborators and members of the underground rap duo Armand
“The Lorax” brings together three artists who have built reputations for pushing the boundaries of hip-hop.
ELUCID, a New York, based rapper and producer, is known for his abstract storytelling and politically charged writing.
Sebb Bash handles the production, crafting a haunting instrumental that sets the tone for the record.
billy woods, ELUCID’s frequent collaborator in Armand Hammer, delivers a powerful guest verse that adds depth and intensity to the track.
Their collaboration feels natural, reflecting years of shared creative history and a commitment to experimental rap that prioritizes substance over mainstream formulas.
Sebb Bash’s production on “The Lorax” stands out with its eerie atmosphere and heavy, rumbling drums. The instrumental creates a cinematic soundscape that allows the rappers to deliver complex verses with dramatic impact.
The beat carries a slow, deliberate pace, emphasizing tension and mood rather than conventional hooks. This approach mirrors the overall aesthetic of the album, which leans toward raw storytelling and introspective themes.
Lyrics
[Intro]
Ah, ah
Lisa, what program is that?
[Verse 1: billy woods]
Necromancer, dead dance for me
Hold the trees for ransom, the Lorax pay handsomely
Borax powder along the baseboards, wait for war
Won't wait long, I waved 'em off
Man's wagers been ran and sang a song
Line dancing, Jordan Rules, put dudes under the stanchions
It's feets and hands if you really start scrambling
Rappers fight they fans like Malice in the Palace
It ain't enough popcorn you could hand them (They mad)
Coyote loping through a canyon in the evening
The streets is abandoned to heathens
Labored breathing in mansions
Demons crouched atop a whore, shitting bricks
Sour milk in the gore, bee-stung lips, fertility beads, Yoruba hips
A wisp of cannabis smoke curl out the window of the whip
Subtle how the wind shift
In the night, plantations burn with the wind, right?
Live your whole life like something stuck in your windpipe
Live like mice
Gave my daughter some advice, all dogs bite
Really looked her in the eyes
Parasites flee when the host dies
Paradise to me, a spot in southside, low-key, but you'd be surprised
Can't replace us with them (Negative)
I'm telling you as a friend
It's not gonna work
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[Interlude]
What program is that?
Yeah, uh, maybe if we change the channel
That's funny, it's on all the channels
Huh?
Hey, tell 'em anything
No matter how long you tell them that, that Jesus ain't gon' help 'em
They gon' be there on Sunday talking about Jesus
What you gotta do is get Jesus to say something
[Verse 2: E L U C I D]
A church ain't a place but a people
Smoke inside the steeple
It's not that I didn't see you
Seeking, tracing Ursa Major
Speaking other tongue
Anybody in the cloud with a translation? (Say something different)
From the mouth of babes
My guess as good as yours
Natural law, I lie anyway
Historically speaking
You might die before they put something on it (Something different)
Karma call, scam likely
In the midnight hour
High-key humbuggery
Crazy bald-head non-cypher
Theoretical madness
Flag heretic in the Afro-future industrial complex
Boo, black bomb threat
Proof of concept
Fear your only constant
The machine runs itself
You may know the language, but not enough to live (You gotta get them to, to say something different)
Every overly earnest avatar is being long-winded for the sake of fart
Mark-ass niggas in European labels
I look good in leather too, not colonial bondage
Conscious is as conscious was
Ever-evolving counter
Just sophisticated savagery
In Savile Road tailored suits
Sweet, nine millis in the millinery
Elder millennial, Achilles' aching
Charlie-horse, had to pull out
gnipag yssup reh tfeL
Scrape your face to this
I rock a flat-top like Howlin' Wolf
Whirlwind through cities to return
