On Something Easy, Something Light, Deucestacks and R. Stills explore the art of balance — between ego and empathy, humor and heaviness, hunger and healing. Across three tracks — “Moors Don’t Get the Bitches I Want,” “Gators Bitches Better Be Wearing Jimmies,” and “Tell Soo Yung I Need More Chow Mein” — the two emcees trade grounded reflections and fearless flexes over immersive production from PleaseCaron, whose sonic minimalism gives the record both gravity and glide. The result feels less like a playlist and more like a dialogue — spiritual, cinematic, and lived-in.

“Moors Don’t Get the Bitches I Want”

Deucestacks opens the project with a statement of evolution.
“New year, old money / Pro life, pro stunting / My son will never know hungry / Your car note is his lunch money,” he spits — confidence weaponized by conviction. The wordplay feels effortless, but every bar doubles as discipline. His voice is calm but dangerous, like someone who’s survived enough to see ego as meditation.

R. Stills enters as the perfect counterpoint.
“They ain’t shaking ass when you woke / … you wear your heart up on your sleeves but you do better with coats.” His tone is cooler, philosophical, haunted. He questions the spiritual costs of success: “I see you gained a couple million — what you do with your soul?” The contrast is electric — one verse ascends, the other grounds. Over PleaseCaron’s restrained, moody production, the song feels both cosmic and concrete.

“Gators Bitches Better Be Wearing Jimmies”

PleaseCaron’s beat on Track 2 swings low and steady — dusty percussion, a bassline that creeps like late-night paranoia.
Deucestacks delivers militant reflection: “We cracked the street code / We move as one / We beat the RICO.” His bars are bloodlines — the voice of someone who treats loyalty as law. Then R. Stills slips in, transforming trauma into black humor:
“You want sauce on the side at a soup kitchen.”
It’s both absurd and profound — commentary disguised as a punchline. The two alternate between warrior and witness, exposing the paradox of endurance: how surviving hardens you but never cleans you.

“Tell Soo Yung I Need More Chow Mein”

The finale loosens the tension with charisma and chaos.
R. Stills opens wild and unapologetic: “Bad Asian bitch that pussy kung pao / Running through a crowd with the blick I spotted Jun Tao.” His verse blends satire, lust, and low-stakes absurdity — levity as release after weight. Then Deucestacks swoops in with surgical focus:
“Home of the mamba face / Bring Kobe / It get ate nigga / Or two fours / You get eight nigga.”
It’s ruthless and reverent at once — a bar that nods to legacy and mortality in a single breath.
PleaseCaron’s production keeps the space fluid — crisp drums, cinematic textures, and an undercurrent of restraint that lets the verses breathe.

Final Take

Something Easy, Something Light is a masterclass in duality.
Deucestacks and R. Stills make complexity sound casual, while PleaseCaron’s production threads the trilogy together like silk over steel — warm, minimalist, but loaded with intent. Across just three songs, the trio craft a body of work that’s equal parts sermon, cipher, and satire. It’s short, potent, and honest — proof that growth can slap as hard as it teaches.

Score: 9.0 / 10 — Produced entirely by PleaseCaron, this is soul-fed rap with monk-like focus — reflective, ruthless, and rich in replay value.