Name: I Guess I Lied by ApokalyptiKandy
Duration: 6 min 37 s
Description: more randomness from my autistic twisted sick & yup utterly fucked up mind

Fake Lines

Division Of Life

What Do You Do

I'll Be Here

so broke i cant even pay attention; the anthem lol

Got a Dollar?

Monsters Come Out

Aware of Dares

No Means No

“WILL IN WINTER BREATH” rides at a cold 140 BPM, blending dark, introspective lyricism with hard-hitting, spiritual energy. It’s a gritty, poetic rap about faith under fire — where frozen streets meet divine redemption. The flow moves sharp and deliberate, built for fans of moody, conscious, and atmospheric hip-hop with weight in the bars and tension in the beat.

Expect icy wordplay, cinematic religious imagery, and underground energy that hits somewhere between street confession and sermon. Perfect for listeners who vibe with dark trap, lyrical spiritual rap, or 140 BPM grime-inspired intensity.

Keywords: dark rap, lyrical rap, 140 BPM, spiritual rap, underground hip-hop, poetic rap, introspective, conscious rap, dark trap, sermon rap, faith and struggle.

lyric:

I wrote my will in winter breath, each syllable a frostbit vow,
Stared the hearse down, blinked first? Never — we can talk that now.
I was prey in the alley, now I pray in the valley of knives,
Let the altar alter me—cut sin loose, rethread my life.
Cross on my back like freight and fate—same weight, same wait,
Every late-night doubt tried taxing grace; He waived that rate.
I keep a psalm in the chamber, spin the cylinder—click, it’s peace,
Devils audit my failures, God redlines each guilty piece.

I’ve seen halos go 404, then patch back in the bleed,
Where the sirens sing in minor C, He majors my need.
I buried versions of me—small funerals behind my eyes,
Every “R.I.P.” became “R.I.S.E.”—watch the letters revise.
If the grave writes laws, then Grace appeals—case closed, say less,
I’ve got tombstone etiquette: bow once, then step.
When the clock gets hostile, I baptize time in faith,
Let the second hand drown, surface clean—new pace.
If death wants rent tonight, slide this note beneath the bar:
“Paid-in-full, signed Blood of the Son”—stamped across my scars.

WINTER BREATH

more randomness from my autistic twisted sick & yup utterly fucked up mind

I Guess I Lied

Where I've been

Autistic lyrical miracle artist, I specialize in spherical and run on rhymes, every line, verse & word you heard here came straight from my insane, twisted, sick, deranged & yup, utterly fucked up mind. I'm half blind with a fractured spine in real life.

I Guess I Lied

ApokalyptiKandy

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