Digits & The Dictators
by Daryl Splitt

VERSE 1
They wanna digitise my life turn my pocket to a screen
Erase the notes I folded now my freedom is quarantined
Tap to buy swipe to sell got us caught inside a loop
With every click tracked down privacys the loot

They say its cleaner quicker safe but read between the lines
Its power they pursue masked in barcode design
No more stash in the mattress no hustle with intent
If they can freeze your balance thats control through consent

Every cent I spends a sensor every code becomes a cage
Theyre digitising dollars but emotional with rage
Your face becomes a passport your habits get mapped
And the minute you dissent boom your access is zapped

HOOK
Cant silence us with silence I got cash in my conscience
Wont be barcoded bloated by some digital nonsense
They want digits I want dignity they print fear I spit symmetry
While they scan and scam the masses I just pen epiphanies

VERSE 2
Cashless aint progress its possession through disguise
Its a leash on the people with a ribbon tied lie
Once we trade in all our notes for a number on a graph
Theyll control when we eat when we speak when we laugh

Central Bank puppets pulling strings in the dark
While they paint us in the media as conspiracy and stark
But I aint scared of facts Im just wary of the plot
When convenience is a cage and your freedoms can be bought

They aint banning cash for kindness its control by design
Try to withdraw your worth and get met with a fine
Your tax now a timeline your wallet now a file
Youre a QR code away from living Guilty til trial

HOOK
Cant silence us with silence I got cash in my conscience
Wont be barcoded bloated by some digital nonsense
They want digits I want dignity they print fear I spit symmetry
While they scan and scam the masses I just pen epiphanies

VERSE 3
They push cashless futures like its progress in disguise
But I see chains in pixels cold control behind eyes
When your moneys a number they hold the master key
Cut the strings fight the system thats the way to be free

Banks got access governments track your every move
Your wallets just a script that they constantly improve
No cash in your hands means no secrets to keep
One glitch one ban and youre sunk gone deep

Its the silent takeover no bang just stealth
Trading freedom for convenience losing our wealth
So Im shouting for the people time to wake from the trance
Keep your cash close stand tall fight back take a stance

HOOK
Cant silence us with silence I got cash in my conscience
Wont be barcoded bloated by some digital nonsense
They want digits I want dignity they print fear I spit symmetry
While they scan and scam the masses I just pen epiphanies


Copyright 2025 (C) Daryl Splitt. All Rights Reserved

Digits & The Dictators

The current music scene is great because of the places where music is made and the experiments that are repeated by each personality. For individual creators, it is much more valuable to have an environment where they can come into contact with a large number of personalities than to be spread.

Born in the Northern Territory but raised on the streets of Kwinana, Western Australia, I learned early on that hustle was the way forward. I always said, “born in NT, raised on the Kwinnny streets,” because that’s exactly how it felt like I had to make my own way.
Ever since my teens, I was hustling. It started small—swiping my mum’s smokes and selling them at school. Then came the dexies. I was supposed to hand them over to the nurse, but when my mate offered me 50 bucks cash, I saw the game for what it was. That was the beginning.
School wasn’t my thing, but I found my own way through. At 14, I got work experience because I wouldn’t turn up to class. That’s where I took off in IT learning how to play with sounds, create animations, design websites, and do some programming. I loved it, but there was no thrill, no excitement. So I pushed forward, got my Year 11, my Certs 1–4 in IT, a diploma, and my Certs 1–4 in business. By 18, I had it all—my diploma, my certificates, my Year 12. I moved into my mate’s dad’s house, renting a room, looking for independence before I was even legally an adult.
Then came the hard reality my father had taken his own life, and I had to face that. But instead of breaking, I found my way around. I don’t know what it was, but someone upstairs had my back. Even in my darkest moments, I found solid people, real ones, right when I needed them. The universe works in mysterious ways.
Before my 19th birthday, I quit my job. I had all the paperwork, the qualifications but none of it meant anything without something bigger. I told my boss straight up, “I’m gonna be a kingpin.” He couldn’t believe it, but he never turned his back on me. Stephen Retzlaff a genius with computers, a man who saw potential in me even when I was heading down a wild road. He never condoned my antics, but he always supported me, helped me better myself. And every time, I’d take off, find new challenges, and overcome them. He was stunned at the determination I had, but I never quit to be nothing—I quit to build somethin I ran with four of Perth’s biggest dynasties. I made my name in the underground. I never snitched, never gave a statement loyalty was my code, and I never broke it.
Plastering, drilling it all led me to Kalgoorlie. I went there as a driller and came back with knowledge, connections, bigger than I ever imagined. Kal became a funnel, an opportunity, a place where demand was high, and once again, luck was on my side. A mate from the bush introduced me to the right people, and things moved forward.
At 21, I left for Kal. At 23, I came back to Perth, ran into an old mate from jail, and that led me into a powerful family. I won’t name names, but I was there for years, watching, learning. In that time, I met famous people, legends, movers, and shakers. I saw the game for what it really was. People are treacherous, but I made sure those around me didn’t fall victim to it. And I made damn sure I stuck to my code.
At 27, I got four years for trafficking meth. Another three years locked up, bouncing between jails. In Hakea, near the end of my sentence, I connected with someone who opened doors I never expected. For the next seven years, I was moving in silence, a quiet achiever.
By 39, I retired. The game had declared me a trafficker meth, molly, weed I had perfected the trade, learned every lesson, played every angle. But I saw how pointless it all was. I survived the fast lane, met incredible people, and came out the other side with wisdom that few ever get to learn.
Now, it’s all about music. I’ve stored years’ worth of poetry, lessons written in rhyme, experiences put into scripture. iPhones gave me a new way to craft beats, refine my sound, and start something real. I’m investing in my record label, pushing my music, putting my message out there. Not for fame, not for fortune but to give back to the people who deserve it. To leave a legacy
Because at the end of the day, I lived my life at full speed, survived it, and now I want to build something that lasts. I still want to have kids, I still want something real and the next chapter is about making that happen.

Digits & The Dictators

Big Splity