The devil in me got an easy job, ill sacrifice my life just help me wire pipe bombs
Ouijaboy the reaper shoving reefer into blunts ignite the skunk, evil lurks behind your eyes we’ve won, this race is done
Rats getting backspaced, bodies on the backpage,
DNA on blacktop, run him over flat faced
Mad weight holding down my lungs, think I got back pain
Chest ache, hope I keep on living just for death’s sake, Hell’s gates, bells shake, underworlds one true king
Lower level dwelling devil headed, never settled, never level headed, hell embedded, metal pressing, triple seven never repping, armageddon one stop heaven
Methods of a deadman, been a peasant, cursed since adolescence 
Always coughing into the oxy-coffin
I lost the plot, plotting
Got choppa knock-knocking
My jacket holding hacksaw, need no menthol just the pot
Demon seeded, oxy needing heathen, Ouija born to rot
Watch bodies drop
First impression wish you never met me i know
Did I mention that I hated all things living? For sure
Need protection, Im not talking bout insurance, Geico
Ouija colder than the therapy chambers, Cryo
Cant go back to hell 
Police power trippin put his newborn in a vacuum seal
Strap em to the table, let him feel this brand new power drill
Smoking on that floral, I aint talking bout no daffodil 
Turn him into maggot meal, grab the steel, how’d it feel?

Blessed Be The Ones Who He Has Eaten

HOLD THAT FT. BLXDESMITH (PROD. REQUIEM CULT)

Hosted by @scream.rap on instagram
Stream: https://vyd.co/ScorchedEarth2

Buy SCORCHED EARTH 2

are u sure? ft. Kamiyada+ (prod. Michael Link)

bet I don't

Spotify

I'll Come Back 2 Haunt You

Let me die faster, nothing really matters, heart been on a platter, my life been disaster, cranium shattered, my brain matter scattered, fuck what comes after, stab me with my back turned
Tryna recall happiness or how it shouldve felt
and it doesn’t ring a bell
Ive been feeling this way back before 2012
I hope you find some peace yourself
I’ve been tryna find the piece that’s gone send me to hell
From this life I finally bail I guess, I guess I won’t live to tell
I meant, I meant can you put me on the shelf? 
Do you think that I could be helped? The only thing that holds my head high is the belt
Hows the motherfucking room smell? After a few weeks of Missing all they think what can we sell? Whats his email? I need every single detail, let me take what’s valuable, you know that he won’t be here 
Start to see clear, but only on my death bed can I say Ive seen fear and not from me dear
Got you Shocked you seen my body its like headlights to deer
I’ve been waiting my whole life and now it’s time the ends near
Dont shed me fake tears, over my body dont copy, prolly forget about me its mere, please let me disappear

Remembrance of the Ghost Boy

Digital Pollution is the residue of years of work, the grind crystallized, the fragments that survived the purge. Tracks born, tracks erased, echoes of everything that didn’t stick. Sharp. Fractured. Persistent. Noise pressed into form. Something coherent, if coherence is a lie you choose to believe.

What emerged was never one album, but two gestating forms. One punk, raw and serrated, teeth bared to the sky; one rap, fluid, fractured, a pulse looping through circuits of thought.

The vision, unstable and electric, suddenly became for us the violent algebra of collision: two sonic organisms smashed together, fused, fractured, reborn. This is not a merger, not a compromise, it is experiment, collision, entropy harnessed, a cross-species mutation of noise and rhythm. Punk bleeds into rap, rap gnaws at punk, everything oscillating, folding, snapping back on itself, a feedback loop of aggression, cadence, and pulse. The album is the experiment made manifest, a collision zone you inhabit, ride, survive.

The end result? It’s a Tony Hawk’s Pro Skater soundtrack compressed into one album. Energy ricochets, corners clipped, rails smashed, crashes into walls of sound, collisions of adrenaline and distortion. Unpredictable, alive, chaotic but curated, somehow. You ride it. It rides you.

The architecture is ritualistic. It begins in rap, erupts into rock, then spirals everywhere in between, oscillating, fracturing, bending, folding back on itself. Sub-songs sample one another, trap metal siphoning the pulse of hardcore punk, bending it, twisting it, rebirthing it. Punk collides with metal, hip-hop stretches beyond its limbs, everything bleeding into everything else. A spectrum, a feedback loop, a glitch in continuity that refuses to settle.

Digital Pollution comes straight from the crippled mind of Bruxism, who shapes the lyrics, sculpts the production, orchestrates the chaos of everything else, and SK3RED, whose crushing guitar riffs and ferocious bass lines carve structure from noise, pulse through distortion, and give the chaos a spine. The music surges and fractures, bending punk aggression into new forms, threading a needle of raw voltage through the sonic whirlwind.

Bruxism’s lyrics gnaw at decay, map the brain rot, and fold political unease into rhythm and rhyme, guiding the listener through the hollow, recycled landscapes of the digital wasteland. The distorted rhythms combined with the high speed vocals coforges a feedback loop of sound and thought, chaos and structure, pulse and decay, an organism that is only one thing. Digital Pollution.

Digital Pollution swims through the cesspool. It's not afraid to get dirty. Observe the ever present culture-war through the hollow, recycled landscape of the Internet. Every post, every meme, every echo of thought devoured and reborn hollow. Beneath it, unrest simmers. not a rallying cry, but a reflection of systems crumbling while you scroll, the undertones pulsing between nihilism and faint resistance. The decay is tangible. You ride it. You feel it. But now, as you listen to what we have created, you will come to understand.

Digital Pollution exists online now. Noise, clarity, fragments, collisions, pulses, loops. Immerse. Let it grind. Let it linger. Let it gnaw at the edges of your mind. 
credits
releases September 30, 2025

Digital Pollution (Intro)

I been on the back roads riding on a black horse
Moonshine sipping in a valley full of bleached bones
Stuck in this dimension I didn't pay attention 
To whatever the fuck these motherfuckers have been saying, huh

Had to crawl back out the dirt
Mouth full of ash, heart is still full of hurt
Hands still gripping that gun, it's bout time for my rebirth
Killed the man i was, but i'm still cursed to roam the earth 

Oh what's that? Necro's dead and gone?
Yeah the fuck he is, put a bullet in his skull 
Myself (uh-huh) got the weapon drawn
Still got five shots left so you better start to run, hah!
(x2)

Walk up to the bar, these bitches staring I know
Down a whole bottle like i still got a throat
Slap a bitch ass now he sprawled on the floor
Six shots six holes then i'm walking out the door

Had to crawl back out the dirt
Mouth full of ash, heart is still full of hurt
Hands still gripping that gun, it's bout time for my rebirth
Killed the man i was, but i'm still cursed to roam the earth 

Oh what's that? Necro's dead and gone?
Yeah the fuck he is, put a bullet in his skull 
Myself (uh-huh) got the weapon drawn
Still got five shots left so you better start to run, hah!
(x2)

FIVE SHOTS

Bloody Chains (Prod. Chase Noir & Octodog)

with @fkbambam

produced by @nimbustwokay & Lord Gasp
mix/rec by Lord Gasp

LYRICS :

(Lord Gasp)

in the cut, out the mix like a bad batch,
boy you movin’ goofy, you the type to get your bag snatched.
lab rat, popped me out the womb and fed my ass tabs
Put me down, i’ll be back , pull up on you , bambam

(Fkbambam)

Got a freak hoe gimme dome 
Doing a handstand
Im like juicy jay up in the club she do her band dance
Came outta dirt. crawled my way out of the quick sand,
Flaunting what im wanting we gon take it you get ransacked

(lord gasp)

lifes a bitch ive let her venom in
Invite her in
I fucked the devil , insiminate her face
Its in my veins
no Vitamin can fix my sinner brain
Disintegrate you bony sack 
The hollow points , the body bag and everything


(fkbambam)

Labels tryna buy my swag, it’s not for sale
You quit and only worked for three whole days yeah you’re bound to fail
Damn your ass retarded how the fuck you slower than a snail
Cross my ass like Jesus, pin right through your hands with metal nails 


(lord gasp)

Big bank all ,blue faces like they holdin’ breath,
Gave that boy a dub, he ran off, now he owe his fuckin death.
I be with them steppers, but they quiet, ain’t no show and tell,
Catch him talkin’ crazy, he gon’ fold like an open mail.


(hook - lord gasp and fkbambam)

Cant stop, won’t stop, cash in the safe
Talk shit, jaw lock, get hit in the face
Lips loose shells fly, thats a closed case
Cant stop won’t stop, run up in your place

Cant stop, won’t stop, cash in the safe
Talk shit, jaw lock, get hit in the face
Lips loose shells fly, thats a closed case
Cant stop won’t stop, run up in your place



(fkbambam)

made it outta nothing i ain’t got no mob ties
messing with the fam you gon’ end up hog tied
Hit em up, freeze up leave ya stuck, terrorize
Shocked to see me creeping out 
But I know I don’t look surprised




(lord gasp)

Whole life flashing, his homies bout to pick his scraps
Pick yo shoes up fore my shooter make the metal clap
Pick his loot up like the riches do the middle class
redneck, call me lil bluegrass


(fkbambam)

Scare the hoes like Danny Brown
I think she had a heart attack
Even with no excercice
my numbers doing jumping jacks
Bambam, calm down
They said my whole life
Early like i’m Folgers
moving boulders like a landslide


(lord gasp)

Gone in a puff
My whole circle smoked quick
Never trust none , fuck with no bluff bitch
Stick to yo senses,  never missin maths
Put numbers in, really
Plus im really bout my swag


(hook - lord gasp and fkbambam)

Cant stop, won’t stop, cash in the safe
Talk shit, jaw lock, get hit in the face
Lips loose shells fly, thats a closed case
Cant stop won’t stop, run up in your place

Cant stop, won’t stop, cash in the safe
Talk shit, jaw lock, get hit in the face
Lips loose shells fly, thats a closed case
Cant stop won’t stop, run up in your place



Lab Rat (with Fkbambam)

DB cowboi.mp3

Banner by Saint Sleep: https://soundcloud.com/c3of

MFNF


Bloody Chains (Prod. Chase Noir & Octodog)

FENRIR