B:-Rich-Never Hurt You Remix

Bei R$ch- Your My Type

Bei R$ch- That’s My Name

ALRIGHT

ALRIGHT (feat. Iman Omari)

🌙✨ Midnight Whispers OUT NOW ✨🌙

This track ain’t just music it’s a moment.
Big Splity penned “Midnight Whispers” for a girl prettier than a whisper of a gentle breeze  smooth, haunting, and heartfelt. A blues-trap confessional for the late-night thinkers and the ones who still feel every beat.

For the ones who can’t sleep ‘cause their heart’s still talking.
This one’s for her.

Lyrics
Midnight Whispers
Written by Daryl Splitt, Performed by The Gring, produced by Daryl Splitt


You move like slow wine in the moonlight,
Eyes got that shimmer make a thug wanna do right.
That hoodie, that stare  your dangerous in the calm,
Beauty with a bite, your a fire wrapped in charm.

Dark rooms, deep talks, lips glossed punching in sin,
If love’s a gamble, baby girl, let me in.
You got me caught up, hooked, spellbound and reckless,
Your name beats in my chest yeah, I wear it like a necklace.

[Hook]
You on my mind, every night, every ride,
A queen so pure, the sweetest in my life.
You don’t play you slay, got me stuck in a trance,
Every look you throw feel like a lap dance.

You on my lips when I pray for the thrill,
If lust was a drug, girl, you more than the pill.
You the vibe I was missin’ in my low-key blues,
Now I’m tryna win you like I got nothin’ to lose.

Lights down, slow burn, we ain’t gotta rush,
That deep kinda hunger you don’t feed with a crush.
You got curves and a brain that combo’s insane,
YouTurn a player into a poet with just one name.

Got me cleanin’ up my game, tryna level up proper,
You the type to make a street king turn to a offer.
Ain’t no filter on the feelin’, girl, this too real,
I’m tryna lace your nights with the way that I feel.

[Bridge ]
You got that gravity, pullin’ me close every time,
Like a melody stuck on repeat inside my mind.
Not just the heat, it’s the calm in your storm,
You broke the mold, girl, you redefine the norm.

Every whispered word, a secret I wanna keep,
You got me losing track, diving way too deep.
No rush, just trust this vibe’s meant to last,
In a world of fast love, you the slow burn that’s built to last.

You a finesse queen got that natural sway,
Turn a cold night warm with just somethin’ you say.
Silk in your voice, but your game too raw,
Make a thug drop pride, make a savage withdraw.

You play the room like a beat smooth, never stressin’,
Every move calculated like a queen in a session.
You don’t chase, don’t beg you attract and select,
And the real ones know they gotta earn that respect.

Told her “pull up” still caught up in that feel,
No hands on yet, but it’s something surreal
Like we’ve been movin’ in sync when I’m all alone,
Tryna turn that night into something grown.

[Hook]
You on my mind, every night, every ride,
A queen so pure, the sweetest in my life.
You don’t play you slay, got me stuck in a trance,
Every look you throw feel like a lap dance.

You on my lips when I pray for the thrill,
If lust was a drug, girl, you more than the pill.
You the vibe I was missin’ in my low-key blues,
Now I’m tryna win you like I got nothin’ to lose.

Finesse in the flesh…
Smooth as midnight whispers…
A rhythm I respect from afar…
No rush, no fuss, just stars 

#MidnightWhispers #theGring #SplittRekordz #TrapBlues #SoulRap #PerthHipHop #WAArtists #WrittenForHer #LateNightVibes #EmotionalBars #UnsignedHype #RealMusicLivesHere

Midnight Whispers- The Gring

Lyrics
Written by Daryl Splitt
Performed by The Gring & Splitt Rekordz
Produced by Splitt Rekordz

Yeah, I hear the whispers, the fake smiles, the lil’ sideways chats
Keep my name in your mouth 
‘cause you ain’t got your own to talk bout………..
SPLITT!!!!!!!……
 RECORDS…!!!!!!
We don’t follow 
 we motherfuckin…
 splitt &  then we spit …
while you just talking shit…
 cos the brothers big splitt!!!
Big beryl says go eat a bag of fucking Dicks…!!!!!!

You ain’t in my league, nah, you ain’t in my lane,
Talk behind my back ‘cause you can’t say my name.
Keep barkin’ from the curb, I’m swervin’ in the game,
Real ones know the truth fake ones acting real lame.

I’m built on hustle, sweat, and late nights grindin’,
While you built on rumours, lies, and bad-timed whinin’.
You type in group chats, I type in contracts,
You stuck on gossip, I’m busy countin’ stacks.
Your crew’s a circus, mine’s a whole army,
Every move I make got the city tryin’ to copy.
They speak like they know, but they ain’t been in the room,
Where the big deals happen and the bass go boom.

You ain’t in my league, nah, you ain’t in my lane,
Talk behind my back ‘cause you can’t say my name.
Keep barkin’ from the curb, I’m swervin’ in the game,
Real ones know the truth fake ones real acting lame.

You see, I walk different I don’t need to pretend,
I don’t play checkers, boy, I’m ten moves ahead.
You bend for approval, I bend rules to win,
They pray for my fall but I’m too locked in.
Yeah, I came from the gutter, made a kingdom from dirt,
Turned my scars to a crown, made the pain all work.
Your shots don’t hit I’m bulletproof bred,
I could starve you of clout with one post, with just one thread.

You ain’t in my league, nah, you ain’t in my lane,
Talk behind my back ‘cause you can’t say my name.
Keep barkin from the curb, I’m swervin in the game
Real ones know the truth fake ones acting real lame.

They mad ‘cause I shine where they couldn’t get lit,
Mad ‘cause the door I built don’t fit there clique.
Mad ‘cause my moves turn to headlines fast
While they still stuck dreamin bout the moves I passed
I don’t stress over whispers, that’s free promotion
Your hate fuels my wave like the ocean in motion
You’ll never be me, not even close to my league,
We don’t follow we splitt & spit that’s our legacy & deed.

You ain’t in my league, nah, you ain’t in my lane
Talk behind my back ‘cause you can’t say my name
Keep barkin’ from the curb I’m swervin in the game,
Real ones know the truth fake ones actin real lame.

Yeah…keep talkin’
The more you speak, the more they see the truth.
SPLITT RECORDS. Young Minds Initiative.
We don’t follow we splitt & then we spit.

Run Ya Mouth Now

Sinners Club

Satoshi

Yeah…
We out early, no rest for the real
Kwinny to Nedlands 
Business moves, no fucking round’
Tick tick flip
No talk for the drip
Them bags get split 
We’ don’t follow rules 
We split and spit 

Let’s ride…

Splity and Jul’z on the Kwinny Freeway,
30K cash, no games, no leeway,
Nedlands plug got 10 for the low,
Pick up the pack, then we back on go.
Through Cottesloe, then Freeo quick,
Back to Kwinny, collect that tick,
Licks get hit, then the packs get split 
We don’t follow rules, we Splitt and spit.

Eyes on the road, soul in the grind,
Duffle in the back, still sharp with the mind.
Jul’z got the smoke, I’m watchin’ the dash,
Hood saints on a mission, just chasin’ that cash.
No convo in Nedlands just nods and weight,
Business clean, don’t test that fate.
Slide down Stirling, then curve through the coast,
Perth sun low, but we doin’ a big toast.

Burner stay buzzin’, the packs in motion,
Jul’z stay low, no talk, just focus.
Split that ten, half slid to Binki,
Other half moved through Rocko linky.
Freo we cruise, straight facts, no flex,
Just grind and collect no need for a cheque.
Splity run his play like footy in winter,
No smoke left just ash in the spinner.

Splity and Jul’z on the Kwinny Freeway,
30K cash, no games, no leeway,
Nedlands plug got 10 for the low,
Pick up the pack, then we back on go.
Through Cottesloe, then Freeo quick,
Back to Kwinny, collect that tick,
Licks get hit, then the packs get split 
We don’t follow rules, we Splitt and spit.

Early morning grind, no time for sleep,
Kwinny’s got my back while the city creeps.
Dodgin’ the po-po, eyes sharp like a hawk,
Every move calculated, steady on the walk.
Medina’s buzzing, streets whisper the news,
Splity’s got the burner, I’m makin’ the moves.
Clockin’ the score, every lick’s a win,
This Perth hustle it’s deep in my skin.

Night falls heavy, but the grind stays lit,
Kwinny lanes tight, but we never quit.
From Sulphur road to Gilmore ave, streets know the name,
Jul’z and Splity, runnin’ the game.
Cash in the duffle, smoke in the rear,
Eyes on the prize, no time for fear.
Tick burner hot, plans locked tight,
We movin’ weight clean, no shade in sight.

Tick for the flip…
No talk on the trip…
Money don’t fold, it stack and drip…
From dawn to dusk, it’s the same old hustle,
Dodgin’ the eyes, keep the muscle subtle.
City lights flicker, shadows get deep,
We play for keeps no time for sleep.

Split-teeee… and Jul’z… on the Freeee-way…
Thirty thou’ cash… ain’t no leee-way…
Nedlands plug… got ten for the lowwww…
Pick it up smooth… then we baaaack on goooo…

Cottes-loooe… breeze… Freeo drip…
Back to Kwinny… tick-tick… flip…
Lick get hit… pack get split…
No talk for the trip
Money don’t fold it stack and drip
We don’t follow nothin’… we Splitt… and spit.

Peak Hour

How They Raised A Snitch Official

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.

How They Raised A Snitch Official

Big Splity

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