REGAL

BLESS THE WOLVES

“Static in My Head” is a stream-of-consciousness confession — a song about living with the noise, not running from it.
It’s about overthinking, burnout, and finding clarity in the chaos.

With southern soul textures and lo-fi hip-hop rhythms, it rides the line between darkness and daybreak — the soundtrack of a restless mind learning to hum in tune.

Static in My Head

Lyrics:
Cold room, neon buzzes sick,
Restless pressure under my skin.
I snap the chains of daytime quick —
I tear loose; I break right in.

I spit today’s whole schedule out,
Your rules don’t run me.
My game’s the one that’s on the board,
I roll that dice—I don’t bleed. See?

I just do my own damn thing,
My deal, my will—
I keep it still.
You get the stab, you get the punch,
You’re the one down the stairs in a crunch.
Your misery leaves me chill.
Who cares, bro?
Life’s only one bad play,
One stage act with no soul anyway.

I just do my own damn thing,
My own deal, my own will —
I keep it still.
You get the stab, you get the punch,
You’re the one down the stairs in a crunch.
Your misery leaves me chill.
Who cares, bro?
Life’s only one bad play,
One stage act with no soul anyway.

I look the way I look,
I lock you down with my face.
Another body shoved inside,
No air, no light in that place.

Six weeks under psych review —
they map your head, your rage, your scar.
By then you're catalogued and through,
we all know exactly who - or what - you are.

“Who are we?” Filthy question.
You’re a file. You’re a mark. You’re a case.
Good ideas? I don’t care.
I wipe your name right off this place.

“Who? That one? Who? What? Him?”
Figure it out in your own hell.
I keep rolling how I choose.
I set the rules, I ring the bell.

I just do my own damn thing,
My own deal, my own will —
I keep it still.
You get the stab, you get the punch,
You’re the one down the stairs in a crunch.
Your misery leaves me chill.
Who cares, bro?
Life’s only one bad play,
One stage act with no soul anyway.

I just do my own damn thing,
My own deal, my own will —
I keep it still.
You get the stab, you get the punch,
You’re the one down the stairs in a crunch.
Your misery leaves me chill.
Who cares, bro?
Life’s only one bad play,
One stage act with no soul anyway.

You swing a chair?
Then you get isolate.
One move — you’re in that cell.
Done. No debate.

Trouble? We’ve got tons.
You’re gone. Back in your box.
Not happy? Me neither.
Solve your own shocks.

Lucky I’m not you,
And I’ll never be.
I look you in the eyes and thank the night
That your world ain’t home to me.

Cold air.
Dirty ground.
Everything shakes, no mercy around.
I hold control, I set the tone —
This is my floor, my zone, my throne.

I just do my own damn thing,
My own deal, my own will —
I keep it still.
You get the stab, you get the punch,
You’re the one down the stairs in a crunch.
Your misery leaves me chill.
Who cares, bro?
Life’s only one bad play,
One stage act with no soul anyway.

I just do my own damn thing,
I just do my own damn thing,
My own deal, my own will.
I keep it still.
I keep it still.
I keep it still.

My Floor, My Rules

when the sun goes down and the moon takes its place

420 – Not a Number, but a Code

WARRANT VOID

The Ice Cream Man” brings that classic West Coast flavor back to the avenue — uptempo, funky, and full of soul. It’s a nod to the L.A. Dream Team days when Snake Puppy first made the streets move, now updated for 2025 with new heat and old-school heart. No gimmicks, no filler — just real music, real legacy, and a reminder that cool never left, it just slid back in.

Ice Cream Man

Don’t Be Cold – Shiftz

Theme: Exposing political hypocrisy and state indifference.
Story Arc: Shiftz delivers a scathing takedown of performative empathy, calling out warm words backed by cold policies. He doesn’t shout, he scalps. The track holds a mirror to the UK’s “compassion fatigue,” wrapped in grime flows and iron sarcasm.

Don’t Be Cold (Yung Shiftz)

지하 깊숙이 fall, 전파 없는 blind spot
터널 밖 세상은 mute, silence gunshot
네온 reflection blur, colors drip, ink blot
Mind split in half like screen crack, hard cut

Thoughts spiral in circles, vertigo bend
Reality’s buffer, corners don’t blend
입술 깨물어 taste iron, dead end
숨 멎을 듯 하다가 다시 ascend

Subway window처럼 stare through space
도시의 pulse는 거칠게 race
나만 정지 화면, frozen interface
Error message float across my face

걷는 발걸음 float, ground feel hollow
Shadow trail glitch like broken follow
감정은 overdue, bills I can’t swallow
Truth hit cold, kick sharp, bone shallow

숨 막혀 또 숨겨진 voice
흐려진 시야 속 noise
Heartbeat 홀로 남는 choice
떨린 숨 끝에서 poise

불빛 번져 네온 haze
흔들려 깨진 gaze
다 멈춰 흐린 phase
어디로 가는지 maze

Carhartt hoodie pulled tight, tunnel air thin
머릿속 traffic jam, signals spin
Crypto chart bleed red, downtrend grim
웃음 뒤 envy hide, paper thin

Scrolling headlines bleed cynic perfume
Hope evaporate quick, smoke in the room
머릿속 계획은 꽃 but never bloom
Fuck timing, clocks chase doom

Platform wind hit hard, heartbeat stagger
의심은 칼처럼 cut with dagger
도시의 욕심은 skyscraper swagger
Luxury dreams but pockets no ladder

말은 다 recycle, bullshit echo
친구는 시즌마다 switch like retro
진심은 algorithm hide in shadow
Silence taste heavy like espresso

숨 막혀 또 숨겨진 voice
흐려진 시야 속 noise
Heartbeat 홀로 남는 choice
떨린 숨 끝에서 poise

불빛 번져 네온 haze
흔들려 깨진 gaze
다 멈춰 흐린 phase
어디로 가는지 maze

시간 밀려 flood, vision blur slow
Reality split screen, picture-in-picture show
감정은 quarantine, panic plateau
반응은 deadpan, heartbeat low

Ghosts of decisions sit front row seat
한숨이 더 loud than any beat
거리의 billboard preach, pay-per-tweet
Fuck fame, silence more elite

Reflection in glass look half erased
Future tense shaky, outline traced
Hope deflate slow like tire deflated
Doubt in my throat, steel tasted

Still, 발은 앞으로 move unseen
Tunnel end light flicker pale green
어둠도 언젠간 lose routine
Night cut thin like guillotine

숨 막혀 또 숨겨진 voice
흐려진 시야 속 noise
Heartbeat 홀로 남는 choice
떨린 숨 끝에서 poise

불빛 번져 네온 haze
흔들려 깨진 gaze
다 멈춰 흐린 phase
어디로 가는지 maze

Twilight Zone

THE COLLECTIVE TAPES: VOLUME ONE is an open vault.
Forty-eight raw cuts pulled straight from late nights, cold streets, half-finished notebooks, lost sessions, and moments that were never supposed to leave the hard drive. No polish. No filter. No rules.
This is everything — the highs, the lows, the anger, the hunger, the stories, the slips, the flexes, the pain, and the pressure of living and creating out the 6ix.
A full archive drop from THΞ CØLLECTIVE, powered by OXO Music.
Welcome to Volume One.
Scroll… press play… and dive into the vault.
#THΞCØLLECTIVE #TheCollectiveTapes #VolumeOne #Toronto #6ixSound #OXOMusic #MixtapeDrop

The Sandman

Melody in the Mirror ALT/VER

I’m a 42-year-old IT Project Manager turned late-night songwriter — born in Louisiana, now rooted in Moore, Oklahoma. The South raised me, and it still hums through everything I make.

These songs are me learning to breathe again — stories pulled from the static, built with a little help from AI and a lot of heart. I’m not chasing fame, just trying to get the noise out of my head and turn it into something honest.

Static in My Head

AaronLiveOnline