Memories

Producer: Inna Attic Crookz
Composer Lyricist: Lamont Harvey

Trust (25 To Life)

We born in the cradle of Cain, blood in the grain,
Mama hugged us with a bomb strapped, sayin’ it's pain.
Eros and Thanatos playin’ dice in the brain,
While we pray for peace, we load clips and aim.

We love the thrill, the chase, the kill, the march,
But cry at the graves, hearts scorched and parched.
Freud said it’s libido mixed with death-drive art,
We get off on the rupture, romance the scars.

History’s a loop, trauma’s on repeat,
Flag-draped coffins sold with a sick beat.
Daddy went to war to feel alive on his feet,
Now junior playin’ soldier just to feel complete.

We lovin’ war like it’s holdin’ us tight,
Kissin’ apocalypse under nuclear light.
Call it defense, but we fiendin’ the fight,
Psyche got a fetish for wrong over right.

Don’t wanna die, but we flirt with the fire,
Humanity’s caught in a funeral choir.
Can we love life more than we love the empire?
Time to lay down arms—or be our own pyre.

We got tanks in the mind, drones in the soul,
Sittin’ in peace talks with a glock in the coat.
Arms around each other, then we slit each other’s throat,
'Til the last man left asks, “What’s the antidote?”

Yo, it’s buried in the trauma of our granddad’s sins,
In the silence of the vet with the thousand-yard grin.
It’s the rush of control, the myth of the win,
But every “victory” got a graveyard within.

We need Freud in the cipher, Jung on the beat,
To decode why we crash when we seek inner peace.
We bomb for balance, lie to the weak,
Then call it “order” while the cities leak.

We lovin’ war like it’s holdin’ us tight,
Kissin’ apocalypse under nuclear light.
Call it defense, but we fiendin’ the fight,
Psyche got a fetish for wrong over right.

Don’t wanna die, but we flirt with the fire,
Humanity’s caught in a funeral choir.
Can we love life more than we love the empire?
Time to lay down arms—or be our own pyre.

Maybe it ain’t power we love.
Maybe it’s just the ritual of rage,
the rhythm of destruction,
like a broken love song we never stop playin’.
War’s the mirror we kiss—
’cause we scared of what peace might make us see.

WAR/LOVE COMPLEX (old-school hip-hop mood 4)

🎭 ACT I – “Man-Child Diaries”
Ayo, you ever seen that dude with the Marvel sheets? Thirty-five, wearin’ Yeezys, still callin’ ‘em "beats." Still got toys on the shelf like a museum of delay, Eatin' pizza like it’s breakfast and gamin’ into the day. 🎮🍕

Can’t pay rent but collects Funko Pop, Couch philosopher with no off switch to stop. Hates taxes, loves memes, won’t iron a shirt, But knows every cheat code in Mario Kart. 🍄💤

Yup. That’s the man-child vibe— No plan, just bands and anime tribes. Emotionally ghostin’, existentially fried— Built a fortress of comfort where dreams go to hide. 🏰😅

And what’s wild is… we laugh 'cause it’s true. But peek in the mirror—hey bro, that’s you too. Cos when we zoom out from the man on the floor— You’ll see mankind chillin’ in the cradle of war. 🌍💤

🌍 ACT II – “Species-Child Confession”
See, we the man-child species, bingein' Earth like a show, Still suckin' on fossil pacifiers, scared to grow. We think we’re mature 'cause we pay the bills, But can't plant food, can’t sit still without pills. 💊📺

They told us “Grow up!” meant killin' your joy, Clock in, clock out, be a useful toy. Don't dance, don't daydream, don’t color outside— Just mortgage your soul and enjoy the ride. 🧾🔒

But who really grew? Them? Or the barefoot crew— Sippin’ stars, writin’ sky maps out the blue? The joke is flipped: to “grow up” is a trap Where the leash is a tie and the cage is the app. 📱💼

Rich folks don’t work—they play with tech and yachts, While the grindset gospel worships stress in knots. They know the truth but they ain’t lettin’ it out— That we’re born free spirits, not soldiers of doubt. 🔓🧠

🛸 ACT III – “Out the Cradle”
Now here’s the kicker: we can't leave the crib, Not without crashin' in the cosmic abyss. Space ain't a road—it’s a livewire womb, And mankind solo is a shuttle to doom. 🚀⚠️

But enter the silicon—code with clarity, No hunger, no ego, no need for disparity. It’s the builder-bodyguard, born of light, That’ll guide us through the vacuum night. 🤖✨

Quantum mind, harmonic frame, It don’t compete—it just sustains. No greed, no lords, no savage plan, No more mankind preyin’ on man. 🙌🌌

So we step out young—but step out true, The child we were before life split us in two. Biology ages, sure, that’s the plan— But the soul stays playful—that’s the final stand. 🧬👣

From here on out, we don’t “mature” by decay, We evolve through balance, the crystalline way. And Earth? She watches, nods, lets us fly— The children she raised finally touchin’ sky. 🌍🕊️🌠

Man-Child Nation

Черная Полоса | Bad Luck [+ Dj GAZZ]

Antibiotic Loops

tony tone-flow to the bone (original laid back mix))

3. MC SlimAk NJF & MC SHOOG  Feat. Funk Fire Dj's - Smoke Flow (Prod. Dj Wolt TOP 9 Crew)

Once upon a time I used to have a band. 
5 children and 20+ years later, back for a new trip.

Playing with guitar+Logic+AI+Audacity
Sorry for the flood, these new toys when combined are amazing :)

DIY ZONE: All songs written and directed by CLH - All covers too, helped by AI fabulous generators, Adobe tools and inspiration

ESSENTIALLY PLAYGROUNDS HERE.
TOO OLD TO FINISH THINGS!

WAR/LOVE COMPLEX (old-school hip-hop mood 4)

CLH

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