Remix by Sanguebom (French beatmaker)
contact@sanguebom.fr


CunninLynguists "Stars Shine Brightest (In The Darkest Of Night) f. Rick Warren" Sanguebom remix

When I am afraid

[Intro, sample]

[Verse 1]
[Opening tension]
Steam risin’ from the concrete, streetlamps flickerin’ slow,
Heat hangin’ in the air thick, liquor drippin’ down throats,
They in the kitchen, chain swingin’, dishes clinkin’ like notes,
Talkin’ small change, but that small change been twistin’ his soul.
One had a smart mouth, half-smirk, teeth grittin’ in rows,
Tryin’ to hide the little quake where the wrist veins show,
Been tight since the lunch lines, split chips and Cokes,
But that debt sat coiled up, hissin’ under his coat.
He laughed — said, “You always act broke,” with a grin cut thin,
Other dude stepped forward, told him, “Watch how you spin,”
Then the fridge hum died when the chair scraped in,
And the sound hit sharp, like a blade to the skin.
Hands came wide, voice jumpin’ two tones too high,
Veins showin’ in the neck where the blue flows rise,
They face-to-face, locked in, heat glued those eyes,
Whole room shrinkin’ down to just two closed minds.
Then—CRACK!—man stumbled, head hittin’ the shelf,
Jar tipped, glass burst into splinters like welts,
He slid down slow-motion, like he missed his own self,
Eyes glassin’ over, fixed on somethin’ else.
Killer froze up stiff, just a pulse in his teeth,
Body on the floor bent crooked in the heat,
No breath, no blink, just a hush — then a creak,
From the beer bottle rockin’ where his knee brushed deep.

[Hook]

[Verse 2 ]
I seen him pacing, face laced with fear, fists tight,
Mutterin’ to shadows, shoutin’ at echoes in the night,
Words jumble, stumble, mumble, grumble, fight,
Mind spinnin’, skin pinning nerves to the fluorescent light.
Hands scratch at walls, teeth grind, eyes dart,
Breath jagged, pulse lagged, heart skippin’ like a broken part,
He talkin’ to himself, cussin’ the shelf, cussin’ his art,
Denyin’ the slip, trippin’ on guilt, can’t restart.
Sweat drippin’, script flippin’, voice crackin’, mixin’,
Floorboards creak, peek through the door, tension fixin’,
Mouth runnin’ marathon, tongue twisted in afflictin’,
Plans crash, stash smashed, memory conflictin’.
He’s talkin’ “It wasn’t me,” then “I had to,” then “No,”
Hands tremblin’, scribblin’, thinkin’ fast, movin’ slow,
Every corner a shadow, every shadow a foe,
Feet shift, lips twitch, mind twitch, eyes blow.
He’s laughin’, cryin’, pryin’ his own mind apart,
Pullin’ knots from his thoughts, spillin’ fears in the dark,
I see the sweat beads, he bleeds panic like art,
Creepin’ closer, closer to the trap he can’t outsmart.
Words collide, collide, collide — fragments of regret,
Telling himself lies, then truths he can’t forget,
I watch him spiral, spiral — whole room in silhouette,
And all I can do is witness, wait… and bet.

“It wasn’t me, no, wasn’t mine, hands clean,
Just a slip, just a trip, just a flick, unseen,
They’ll never know, they’ll never find, not a scene,
I’m smart, I’m slick, I’m gone, I’m between.”
“Breathe… don’t freeze… think, blink, hide,
Heart pound, ground shake, doors creak wide,
What if, why not, can’t stop, can’t slide,
Every shadow a judge, every floorboard’s my guide.”
“Calm… I’m calm… no alarm, all charm,
Slip it in the bag, clean the tag, disarm,
They’ll ask, they’ll probe, I’ll smirk, no harm,
But blood sticks, heart ticks, mind alarms.”
“I didn’t mean, I didn’t plan, I didn’t intend,
Why bend, why send, why pretend, who’s the friend?
It’s done, it’s gone, it’s spun, can’t unbend,
Cops close, breath froze, all roads end.”
“Think, rethink, sink, shrink, can’t blink,
Lie, deny, pry, sigh, quick, quick,
Hands shake, heart quake, walls think,
hear him, I see him, I feel him, I sink.”

[hook]

[Verse 3]

Cain/Abel

“The version They Tried to Bury- Mic in the Rubble” is a ciphered anthem of survival, refusal, and sonic reclamation. It’s about the voice that wasn’t silenced—the version they tried to bury but couldn’t. The lyric positions the microphone as a symbol of resistance rising from destruction: not polished, not pristine, but embedded in the debris of historical betrayal and imperial distortion.
Here’s the core narrative:
🔥 The Rubble: Represents the aftermath of deceit—broken treaties, erased testimonies, and silenced truths. It’s the physical and symbolic residue of colonial mandates, propaganda, and systemic violence.
🎙️ The Mic: Emerges from that rubble as a tool of reclamation. It’s not just for speech—it’s for indictment, coded critique, and ancestral echo. The lyric suggests that even when the world collapses, the cipher survives.
🧠 The Message: You can bury the archive, distort the optics, and pave over the truth—but the voice will rise. The mic in the rubble isn’t just a metaphor—it’s a refusal to let silence win.

How to Breathe Underwater (feat. Suave-Ski & Jus Cuz)

ApathyDGZ