Nemuri Radio

Coming through the effing glass! (Kamikaze, biiitch!)

It’s not “Kamikaze Bitch.” It’s “Kamikaze, Bitch!” — a deliberate pause, a reclaiming, and a challenge. When Haiqeem fumbles the title, Vyza doesn’t let it slide. She corrects him without blinking, and from there, the episode barrels into a sharp, stylish declaration of female agency.
 
This episode captures the making of the song — a volatile anthem where softness becomes strategy and rage becomes ritual. “Kamikaze, Bitch!” isn’t just a track; it’s a warning. A weapon. A wink.
 
As Vyza says: “It’s not anger. It’s precision.”

Crying in your lap, the night…

Haiqeem recalls the night he wandered through the Hollywood Hills, lost in himself, barefoot and unraveling. He confesses how he ended up outside Vyza’s La Brea hotel, collapsing in her lap, sobbing, “Don’t leave me. Don’t leave me.”
 
Vyza doesn’t interrupt—she was there. Her voice is soft, haunted, steady. Together, they revisit that moment not with shame, but reverence. Because that night gave birth to “The Night.”
 
No studio polish. No pretense. Just two artists remembering the kind of heartbreak that leaves claw marks on your music.
 
Sometimes the greatest songs are born in someone’s lap, with salt-stained cheeks and nothing left to hide.

Crying in your lap (The Night)

Vyza and Haiqeem sit together and quietly revisit the night that birthed the song — the one neither of them can forget. In the heart of the episode, “Crying in Your Lap,” Haiqeem recalls the moment he broke down without warning, collapsing into her lap in a wave of grief and exhaustion.
 
She didn’t speak. She just let him cry.
 
This episode moves between memory and melody, stitching together the silence, the sorrow, and the sound of a song that could only be written by surviving something unspeakable. The Night is a recollection, a confession, and maybe a goodbye. She's still not a happy camper, and he- He's still in love.

You're naming me now?

Vyza and HAIQEEM revisit “Dream Come True” — the song that still makes him cry. “I’m proud of you,” he tells her, barely holding it together. It’s tender, uneasy, and strangely final.
 
Then comes Tokyo Blue. She teases him. He deflects. She gives him a nickname.
“You’re naming me now?” he laughs — but not all the way.
 
There’s something unspoken between them:
Vyza suspects Tokyo makes him sad, though he won’t say why.
He always comes back quieter.
She never asks.
 
Until now.

Luxury As Armor

Vyza arrives late to the studio — sunglasses on, stories half-told — while Haiqeem waits, already recording. What unfolds is a slippery, electric conversation about her single “Shopping” and how luxury isn’t just indulgence — it’s survival. They unpack the myth of “having it all,” the performance of invincibility, and how beauty can be weaponized when you’re trying to outrun pain.
 
There’s teasing, tension, truth — and the faint rustle of a price tag still hanging off a $1,200 sweater. For anyone who’s ever had to wear confidence like a costume, this one cuts close.

Malibu Was A Mistake… (No Love on The Beach)

Haiqeem and Vyza reconnect for the first time in years. The tension is quiet, unfinished. “Malibu was a mistake,” she says. “Then why did we stay?” he asks. “Because you had the studio… and I had nowhere else to go.” This isn’t an interview. It’s a conversation in the aftermath. With music from her album Nemuri playing beneath them, Nemuri Radio begins.