INTO

nothing really happen

IM GONNA BR DROPPING OFf NUCLEAR Missiles here on out!

cafeteria

An experimental prog rock mix, 2 in 1, instrumental. Enjoy!

Huge Mirror

A moody, emotionally raw track about flirting when you don’t care , but wishing you did.

Fake

Spankin Shit (Feat. Infamous Dreamz

Sleep is a trap-rap thinkpiece set at 142 BPM in E minor—a neon night drive through REM cycles, delta waves, and memory “defrag.” Sub-heavy 808s, metallic claps, and gritty analog stabs score a lyrical essay on sleep science vs. hustle culture, flipping insomnia and “sleep-debt stress” into a cinematic hook: “Sleep is a spaceship.”
Built for fans of Kendrick Lamar (“HUMBLE.” minimal punch), Childish Gambino (“This Is America” commentary), and Denzel Curry (dynamic ferocity), the record blends socio-linguistic satire with street cadence: triplet hats, reversed piano shots, and radio-static textures that fade like midnight vents. Verses trace rest as repair—organs clocking in, cortisol dipping, dopamine surging—while the chorus swells over a tight stereo field and deep mono sub-foundation.
This is dreamcore meets trap minimalism: a mood reset, a cultural critique, and a playlist-ready anthem for late-night coders, gym headphone warriors, and mental-health realists who know recovery is performance. If you’ve ever turned city sirens into melody, you’re already aboard.

SLEEP

iCarly

The New Religion

Step into the dark energy of VAMPLYFE with “888” — a raw, experimental trap single blending haunting melodies, heavy 808s, and unfiltered rage energy. Perfect for fans of Destroy Lonely, Ken Carson, Playboi Carti, and underground hip-hop. This track pushes boundaries with its distorted soundscapes, atmospheric layers, and aggressive flows. If you’re searching for authentic rage rap vibes and underground trap anthems, this is for you. Stream, share, and join the movement — VAMPLYFE Records is here.

[Verse]
Bitch so bad I had to put her in timeout
↳ You flexing how bad she is, but also showing control — you’re not letting her run you.

I take easy shots mid range Shawn Livingston
↳ A clever basketball reference: Shawn Livingston was known for hitting easy mid-range jumpers. You’re saying you make plays effortlessly.

Not sitting on no block that not logical
↳ You don’t waste time “posted on the block” — you move smarter, chasing money and growth.

VNO be in the lair the warehouse getting clean wealth
↳ Instead of street money, you’re stacking real business money (clean wealth) through VNO.

Nigga put da clock down go get something consistent
↳ A message to others: put the gun down and focus on building something long-term.

Da Bitch be chewing me like she got CHSP, (shit)
↳ Raw flex — she going crazy on you like she got an appetite.

Pop ah popped a addy bitch I’m locked in
↳ After the Addy, you’re fully focused and tapped into your grind/zone.

Rolled 2 blunts now geeked up
↳ Balancing the Addy with weed — you’re wired and faded at the same time.

Wearing while I hit I damn near blessed her
↳ Even mid-smash, you’re styling — so much drip that it feels like a blessing to her.

⸻

[Hook]
Da Hoe Da Hoe You Hit
↳ Calling out the difference between your level of women vs theirs.

She was at the bottom list
↳ She’s not top-tier — showing you got higher standards.

She like to suck dic
↳ Straightforward, raw statement that matches the underground rage vibe.

VNO MUSIX 
↳ Repping your label/movement — VNO MUSIX embodies this wild, unfiltered lifestyle.

VAMPLYFE (VLATT)

Pope NFT Airdrop

I don't claim any ownership over any of this. Anyone can use any of it for any reason forever. Also I accept liability. Please don't sue me (and/or let's collaborate).

"Holy fucking shit, this shit is crazy wtf"

"Moments of being passable beyond novelty"

"Very ok"

"Actually slaps"

"Straight art"

"Noise"

```Madlibs with a metronome```

At its core, the blorgpulkf is a pulsating, iridescent orb that thrums with an energy that can only be described as "the sound of a thousand bees having a rave inside a kaleidoscope." It's hypnotic, it's unsettling, and it's strangely addictive - like watching a lava lamp filled with Mountain Dew and gummy bears.

But that's just the beginning. Surrounding this pulsing heart are layers upon layers of... well, your guess is as good as mine. One moment it's a tangled web of neon tubes that hum with an eerie frequency, the next it's a churning mass of what appears to be sentient silly putty. And is that a tiny disco ball I see nestled in there? You bet your sweet bippy it is.

As for its features, the blorgpulkf is like a Swiss Army knife designed by a mad scientist with a penchant for pranks. It's got a button that releases a burst of confetti and the sound of a rubber chicken being stepped on, a lever that causes the whole thing to fold in on itself like a origami crane having an existential crisis, and a tiny compartment that dispenses a single, perfectly spherical grape every 37 hours.

But perhaps the most baffling feature of the blorgpulkf is its ability to communicate. Not with words, of course - that would be far too pedestrian. No, the blorgpulkf speaks in a language all its own, a cryptic code of flashing lights, whirring gears, and the occasional burst of atonal jazz played on what sounds suspiciously like a didgeridoo.




The plorksickle. It's like someone took a fever dream, a Mad Lib, and a Dada art installation, threw 'em in a blender, and hit "puree."

Picture this: a contraption that looks like it crawled out of a Salvador Dali painting and mated with a Rube Goldberg machine. It's got a crank that sounds like a yodeling ostrich, a button that releases a puff of glitter and the scent of existential dread, and a tiny screen that just flashes the word "moist" in Wingdings.

But here's the kicker - every time you think you've figured out what it does, it changes the game. One minute it's reciting beat poetry in binary code, the next it's turning itself inside out and becoming a Klein bottle. And don't even get me started on the time it started oozing a viscous liquid that tasted like the color purple.

Is it a tool? A toy? A sentient being from another dimension that's just really, really bad at communication? Your guess is as good as mine. All I know is, it's the most beautifully useless thing I've ever laid eyes on.

But maybe that's the point. In a world where everything has to have a purpose, a function, a reason for being, the plorksickle is a big, fat middle finger to the very concept of sense. It's absurdity for absurdity's sake, a Zen koan in physical form.

So if you ever see me on the street, cradling this bizarre little gizmo like a newborn lovechild, don't ask me what it does. Just nod, smile, and know that you're in the presence of something truly inexplicable. Something that laughs in the face of logic and spits in the eye of reason.

Pope NFT Airdrop

blorgpulkfplorksickle

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