Rage Trap
Hypertrap
Punk Trap
Digital Trap

Opium Trap
Fashion Rage
Glitch Trap
Futuristic Trap
Dark Trap
Experimental Trap Trap Rage Trap Plugg / PluggNB Cloud Rap Psychedelic Trap adlibs

friday tha 13th

whole lotta shit

erase

Hypertrap
Punk Trap
Digital Trap
Fashion Rage
Glitch Trap
Futuristic Trap
Dark Trap
Experimental Trap Trap Rage Trap Plugg / PluggNB Cloud Rap Psychedelic Trap adlibs

ragepxrty

Hypertrap
Punk Trap
Digital Trap

Opium Trap
Fashion Rage
Glitch Trap
Futuristic Trap
Dark Trap
Experimental Trap Trap Rage Trap Plugg / PluggNB Cloud Rap Psychedelic Trap adlibs

FEEL LIKE ME

SUPERSTAR



(Intro – low, whispered, hollow)
Yeah…
(superstar… superstar…)
Don’t call me that…
(I don’t want it…)

[Chorus – repetitive, hypnotic, dead-eye calm]

I’m a superstar, but I hate that shit ( hate that… )
Lights too bright, I don’t chase that shit ( turn ’em off… )
Crowd too loud, I don’t crave that shit ( nah… )
Whole damn life, I escape that shit ( run from it… )

Superstar… but I feel too dark ( too dark… )
Superstar… but it broke my heart ( cracked… )
Superstar… but I’m torn apart ( split… )
Superstar… never played that part ( never did… )

[Verse 1 – cold, whispered, detached like NINEVICIOUS]

Yeah…
I been movin’ through the night when the world can’t see
Everybody wanna shine, but that shit ain’t me
All these fake-ass smiles, all this wannabe greed
Made my soul go numb, made my chest feel weak
(numb as hell)

Shawty wanna ride but she don’t know pain
I been cut so deep that it leak like rain
I don’t fall in love, I don’t play no games
Got a mask on tight and it stay the same
(no change)

I don’t flex too much ’cause that shit feel forced
But the money come in and it hit full force
I ain’t run from the dark, bitch, I came from the source
And the fame ain’t shit but a different corpse
(dead fame…)

[Chorus – more echo, more repetition]

I’m a superstar, but I hate that shit ( hate that… )
Lights too bright, I don’t chase that shit ( too bright… )
Crowd too loud, I don’t crave that shit ( back up… )
Whole damn life, I escape that shit ( run from it… )

Superstar… but I feel too dark ( dark inside… )
Superstar… but it broke my heart ( broke it… )
Superstar… but I’m torn apart ( torn… )
Superstar… never played that part ( never played… )

[Verse 2 – short, icy, emotional numbness]

Yeah…
I been walkin’ like a ghost when the lights turn black
Every memory I had tryna claw right back
I don’t smile too much ’cause the shit feel wack
All the shine in the world feel cheap like that
(cheap love)

Fake friends call when the money hit high
But the real ones fade when the pain multiplies
I ain’t lookin’ for fame, I ain’t lookin’ for lies
I just move real slow with the hate in my eyes
(real cold…)

If I said I’m good, then I lied, that’s facts
But I still stay still, never fall off tracks
Can’t run from the dark ’cause the dark run back
Superstar name but the soul pitch black
(pitch black…)

[Outro – fading, whispered monotone]

Superstar…
(superstar…)
But I never wanted that part…
Never did…
(never… never…)

superstar

In the dead, soundless hour just before dawn, where the asphalt exhales the chill of forgotten motion, the true liturgy of the crash test dummy—our silent, synthetic martyr—begins its relentless, calculated misery. Known formally as the Anthropomorphic Test Device, but internally as the willing participant in mankind's most violent curiosity, this figure stands not as a man, but as the ghost of impact, waiting. Its plasticine, hollow bones and meticulously calibrated joints are merely vessels for the dark science of destruction. The atmosphere is thick, smelling of ozone and freshly polished steel, a sterile altar for utter chaos. The vehicle approaches, not with the roar of life, but with a soulless, hydraulic hum—a machine of fate aimed with terrifying precision. This is the Urus, a phantom of carbon fiber and brute force, its headlights twin predatory eyes cutting through the darkness. The crash dummy, a featureless, stoic figure of vinyl and aluminum, doesn't flinch. It is locked into a seatbelt system designed not to protect, but to record the exact moment of its own betrayal. As the closing distance collapses into a final, sickening zero, the world explodes into a symphony of deformation. The Lambo Urus does not merely hit; it devours the dummy, folding the air around it. Every millisecond is a data point: the skull's peak deceleration, measured in lethal G-forces, the way the rib cage collapses inward like a fragile, ceramic cage, the chilling whip of the neck as the head tries, and fails, to escape its destiny. The event is a violent, swift ballet of crushed metal and snapped polymers, a flash of white-hot stress that resolves, in an instant, into stillness. What remains is not a wreck, but an artifact—the dummy, now slumped and irrevocably broken, its internal sensors having dutifully etched a chilling, detailed report of its own demise. It is the perfect, evil ritual, repeated tirelessly in the name of safety, where a dark proxy must continuously die so that fragile, human flesh might survive the highway's inevitable, ultimate cruelty. The cold, swirling darkness that now envelops the scene is not just night; it is the lingering, twisted echo of the dummy's thousand unspoken, calculated deaths.

crash

Death is not the silence they promise, but the only truly honest noise left in the universe—a cold, metallic thunk as the final, superfluous circuit trips. It is the raw, unflinching answer to the anxious, buzzing question of existence. It arrives not with trumpets or white light, but with the subtle, insidious feeling of the world deliberately losing focus, blurring at the edges as if the film reel of your consciousness is finally slipping off the sprocket. The body, that meticulously crafted engine of desire and defiance, becomes instantaneously foreign, the blood cooling into an indifferent, heavy syrup. This is the moment when the mask of vitality shatters, revealing the dark, oily mechanics beneath. Everything you built—the grudges, the ambition, the desperate need for more—folds back into the void, an irrelevance extinguished by the sheer gravitational pull of non-being. It is the final, intimate collision with the absolute zero of the soul, a plunge into an unknowable vacuum where sound cannot travel and light holds no meaning. The darkness that consumes you is not the absence of light, but the absolute presence of everything else, a crushing, eternal knowledge that you are no longer the observer, but merely the observed decay. Death is the ultimate, inescapable flex of reality, a final, beautiful, and utterly terrifying display of power where every lie we tell ourselves about forever is incinerated in a single, cold breath, leaving nothing behind but the terrifying elegance of the final, untraceable absence.

X-MEN



(Intro – spaced-out, whispered)
yeahhh…
(uhh huh…)
movin’ like mutants…
X-Men shit…
(yeaaah…)

HOOK – monotone, catchy, hazy rage

Bitch I feel like X-Men, walkin’ with a new mutation ( yeah… )
Chrome Hearts on my body, that’s a fucking transformation ( uh huh… )
I don’t talk to nobody, they just ruin conversations ( shut the fuck up… )
I been stackin’ all this money, watch it float like levitation.

Bitch I feel like X-Men, whole gang look like Phenomenon ( woo… )
Shawty say she love me but she cap — I been movin’ on ( bye… )
I don’t need a team, I go solo with the focus on
Bitch I feel like Cyclops, laser focus when I put it on.

VERSE 1 – melodic monotone, luxury flex rage

Yeah…
Rick Owens boots when I step like a monster,
Bitch keep talkin’ but she sound like a sponsor.
I been off the map in the sky like a saucer,
Pockets too fat, lookin’ somethin’ like Colossus.

I don’t need friends, they slow me down,
If it ain’t racks, don’t come around.
I been on top, I don't touch no ground,
Bitch wanna trip? Tell her calm that down.

I be in the whip with the seats laid back,
Chrome on the dash, no strings attached.
Shawty wanna leave but she still run back —
She love a young demon with designer attacks.

(okay… yeah…)

HOOK – darker, echoing

Bitch I feel like X-Men, walkin’ with a new mutation ( mutate… )
Chrome Hearts on my body, that’s a fucking transformation ( transform… )
I don’t talk to nobody, they just ruin conversations
I been stackin’ all this money, watch it float like levitation.

Bitch I feel like X-Men, whole gang look like Phenomenon
Shawty say she love me but she cap — I been movin’ on
I don’t need a team, I go solo with the focus on
Bitch I feel like Cyclops, laser focus when I put it on.

VERSE 2 – airy, icy delivery with rage under it

Yeah…
New ice drip like I teleport in,
VVS glow like Professor’s skin.
I don’t want love, I just want that win,
If she talk crazy, I crash that shit.

Been too high, can’t hear no hate,
Talk too much, get out my face.
I don’t chase hoes, bitch I chase that bank,
If you ain’t rich, you got no rank.

Shawty want me ’cause I look too rare,
Black fit tight with the silk underwear.
I don’t say shit ’cause I really don’t care,
X-Men vibe — I’m a mutant in the air.

(yessir…)

OUTRO – soft, whispered

X-Men…
yeah I feel like X-Men…
don’t talk to me…
(shhh…)
I mutate when the racks come in…

X-MEN

Rage Trap (core sound — distorted 808s, punk energy)


Make a dark, rage-type trap track with glitchy high-energy drums, distorted 808s, and a spaced-out melodic vocal tone. I want the flow to sound unhinged but catchy, with heavy reverb, ad-libs that echo through the mix, and a repetitive, chant-style hook. Give it that chaotic yet melodic underground rage vibe — fast, aggressive, and emotional at the same time. The vocals should have an offbeat, hypnotic delivery with raw energy.
Opium Trap (luxury, minimal, spacey version of rage — the real Ken/Lonely feel)

Cybertrap (Y2K / digital aesthetic, metallic distortion)

Punk Trap (adds aggression + mosh-pit bounce)

Dark Rage Trap (lower key, menacing tone — fits the beat of “NETTSPEND”)

Luxury Rage (fashion-forward, Chrome Hearts / Opium style)

Experimental Rage Trap (lets the AI push weird FX & bass movement) 

fuk luv

[Hook]
I just walked in this bitch with the lights off
Too much money on me, I can’t talk soft
She say I’m toxic, yeah, I know I am
I don’t need nobody, I’m my own plan

New fit on, yeah, this shit all Rick
Step in the room, they already pissed
I don’t do love, I don’t do shit
If it ain’t ‘bout money, don’t say shit

[Verse 1]
I been geeked up all night, I ain’t sleep
Black tee, black jeans, all heat
She wanna vibe, wanna creep
I just want her friend, not deep

They say I changed, yeah, maybe I did
Had to boss up, had to get rich
I don’t explain shit to no bitch
I just point up, tell her “this”

Too much swag, yeah, it come natural
Too many hoes, shit get irrational
I don’t chase shit, I’m unreachable
You still broke? That’s unrelatable

[Pre-Hook / Build]
I was down bad, now I’m up
They was laughin’, now they stuck
I don’t care, give a fuck
I just pour it in the cup

[Hook]
I just walked in this bitch with the lights off
Too much money on me, I can’t talk soft
She say I’m toxic, yeah, I know I am
I don’t need nobody, I’m my own plan

New fit on, yeah, this shit all Rick
Step in the room, they already pissed
I don’t do love, I don’t do shit
If it ain’t ‘bout money, don’t say shit

[Verse 2]
I’m with my twin, yeah, we locked in
Same mindset, yeah, we boxed in
If he run up, he get popped quick
I don’t hesitate, I don’t stop shit

They tryna copy my cadence
They tryna steal my arrangements
You still askin’ for favors
I been causin’ disturbances

Whole lotta ice, I’m cold as hell
I don’t kiss and I don’t tell
She fall fast, I’m under a spell
I just laugh when she rebel

[Outro]
Yeah
I don’t need no co-sign
I don’t need no handout
I already ran it up
What?
Ayy
Let’s go

supa

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