Bleedin For Yeh

Head down low

[Verse 1]  
Echoes claw the skull's backdoor, fingers slick with yesterday's rot  
Chasin' ghosts that grin like exes, teeth filed sharp on forgotten plots  
Mind's a sewer rat sprint, dodgin' floods of what-ifs gone sour  
Pills rattle like loose change in a coffin, buyin' hours by the hour  
Fists pound the mirror till it spits blood confessions, "You ain't king"  
Crown's a noose of neon lies, swingin' low where the weak hearts cling  
Demons DJ the static, scratchin' tracks of "almost was" on repeat  
Feet drag through tar-pit thoughts, sinkin' slow, no lifeline, no beat  
Rage bubbles up like bad acid, burnin' bridges to bone-dry ash  
Last laugh's a wheeze from the void, echoin' "crash, you fool, crash"  

[Chorus]  
Shadows slither, swallow whole, no mercy in the swallow's throat  
Chasin' tails in black-hole basements, where the light forgot to show  
Yell till lungs cave, "Come get me!"—they just laugh and let you choke  
Mind's meat grinder, churnin' dreams to dust, one hopeless poke  
Shadows, shadows, pull me under, drown the fire in your ink  
Chasin', bleedin', never winnin', just the brink and bitter brink  
Echo back my broken howls, make the crowd scream it thin  
Shadows win, shadows win, let the spiral spin us in  

[Verse 2]  
Woke up tastin' rust and regret, tongue thick with unsaid goodbyes  
Eyes like cracked phone screens, scrollin' scrolls of alibis that die  
Friends fade to pixels, ghosts in group chats, typin' "we good?" lies  
Bottle's bottom mocks the promise, "One more swig, then you fly"  
But wings are wet rags, clipped by doubts that nest in ribcage cracks  
Nights stack like unpaid bills, interest pilin' panic attacks  
Whispers from the wallpaper peel, "Quit pretendin', you're the hack"  
Laughter's a luxury tax, paid in tears that streak the track  
Fury's a flat tire on the freeway, spinnin' wild, no traction left  
Just skid marks of "shoulda" leadin' to the cliff where hope went deaf  

[Chorus]  

[Verse 3]  
Threads of sanity fray like cheap socks, trippin' over toe-stub truths  
Youth's a scam artist, sold me futures wrapped in fool's proof  
Now I'm pawnin' memories for matches, lightin' fuses to the fuse  
Boom—scattered shards of "me" rain down, nothin' left but the blues  
Rivals in my head hall, circlin' like vultures on a vibe  
Pickin' clean the carcass of confidence, leavin' gristle to survive  
Scream at ceilings stained with smoke rings from cigars of "why try?"  
They stare back blank, judgin' silent, "Boy, you're just another die"  
Twist the knife of nostalgia slow, carve out chunks of what burned bright  
Left with embers that mock the hunger, starvin' fierce in endless night  

[Bridge]  
Breathe it in, the rot-rose scent, petals wiltin' on the vine  
One step from the edge, toes curl 'round nothin', spine's a crooked line  
What if the chase ends empty? Just a loop of "you again"  
Fists unclench, drop the fight—let the dark twins pull you in  
But nah, spark flares wild, veins pump venom, "Not yet, you pricks!"  
Rage rebirth, a glitch in the gloom, teeth bared for the fix  
Shadows scatter for a sec, then regroup, thicker, meaner twist  
Cycle spins eternal, suck the soul dry with a kiss  

[Verse 4]  
Barrel down the brain-storm alley, thunder thoughts crack like whips  
Lips spit lightning bolts of spite, zappin' doubts to smoky strips  
Exes haunt the rearview, smirks say "Told ya, kid, you slipped"  
Grip the wheel white-knuckled, swervin' 'round the pit they dug quick  
Pockets full of IOUs from gods who ghosted on the deal  
Heal? That's a punchline for the privileged, feel the raw, unpeel  
Walls close in like bad trips, graffiti screams your failures loud  
Crowd it out with curses chained, a torrent tearin' through the cloud  
Endgame's a whisper: "Fold now, save the ache"—but fuck that plea  
I'll chase these bastards to the marrow, burn the whole damn tree

Shadows Win

[Verse 1]
Echoes in the skull, bones rattle like loose change in a pocket full of regrets,
Sweat on the sheets, solo symphony of screams I never let escape the net.
Fingers claw at ghosts, grip slips on the ladder I built from broken bets,
Every step a stutter, tumbling back to the pit where the heart forgets.
Whispers from the walls, "You fumbled again, king of the almost-there throne,"
Mirror cracks a grin, shows the clown crown I wear when I'm alone.
Pills scatter like confetti from a party that ended before it begun,
Chasin' tail lights of dreams that swerve and leave me spun.
Fury bubbles low, a storm in the gut twistin' slow,
Punch the pillow pretendin' it's the face of the me I let go.
Nights bleed into days, a cycle of "why" and "what if" chains,
Solo in the storm, drownin' in the rain of my own dumb pains.

[Chorus]
Alone in the wreckage, fists to the sky but the clouds just laugh,
Fuckin' up the script, every line a glitch, aftermath crash.
Shadows tag along, pullin' strings on this puppet show farce,
Never nail the landing, always the spark that fizzles harsh.

[Verse 2]
Kitchen floor confessions to the fridge hummin' lullabies of loss,
Bottle caps collection, trophies for the nights I crossed my own boss.
Friends fade like smoke signals I misread in the fog of my flaws,
Dial tones mock the calls I chicken out on, clawin' at closed doors.
Double dip in despair, heir to the error, terror in the mirror stare,
Pair of eyes hollow, swallow the sorrow till it chokes the air.
Schemes unravel quick, brick by brick I stack the blame game wall,
Fall through the cracks, tracks of tears map the crawl back to crawl.
Rage ripples out, shout at the void but it spits back silence thick,
Pick at the scabs of "shoulda," blood drips rhythmic, sick tick-tock trick.
Wander the warehouse mind, aisles of "if only" stocked high,
Supply run for sanity always comes up dry.

[Bridge]

[Verse 3]
Ceiling stares back judgmental, paint peels like promises I shred,
Bed a battlefield, bullets of doubt lodged deep in the head.
Solo jam session, guitar strings snap under frantic fret press,
Mess of melodies mournin' the moves I second-guess.
Entendres double-edged, hedge bets on the edge where I ledge-dive,
Alive but barely, parley with the dark that makes me thrive? Nah, jive.
Turkey in the straw, draw the short one every raffle round,
Ground swallows the sound of my stumbles, profound pound.
Ire ignites sporadic, erratic static in the brain pan fry,
Try to tie the noose on the blues but the knot always slips by.
Drift through the driftwood days, waves of "wrong" crash relentless,
Defenseless in the deluge, foolish fuel for the endless.

[Chorus]

[Verse 4]
Drawer full of drafts, half-baked plans that bake in the regret oven,
Shovin' down the doubt but it bubbles up, sudden gut punch lovin'.
Echo chamber solo, polo shirt stained with the sweat of "almost won,"
Done before the dawn, withdrawn from the race I never run.
Fumble fingers on the keys, pleas to the ether go unanswered flat,
Scatterbrained cat chasin' its tail in the trap I set, splat.
Wrath whispers sweet, "Smash it all," but the hammer hand shakes weak,
Leak of fury feeble, retrieval of the pieces? Nah, too bleak.
Rhyme ricochet wild, child of the chill that kills the thrill slow,
Flow folds under the weight of the wait, plate full of "no."
Linger in the limbo lounge, lounge lizard lappin' up the lone,
Bone-tired, wired wrong from the jump, home in the groan.

[Outro Verse]
Final flick of the lighter, ignite the night with a sigh that sighs deep,
Creep through the creep of the keep I can't escape, sleep a thief.
Beef with the reflection, deflection of the truth hits like a brick,
Sick of the script flip, trip on the rip in the seam, quick.
Alone? Yeah, etched in the etch of the etch-a-sketch shake,
Mistake parade marches on, dawn breaks on the fake awake.
Fury fades to flicker, thicker than the mist but mistier still,
Chill pill swallowed whole, hole in the soul that time can't fill.

Alone In The Wreckage

Descend into the eerie haze of “The Talking Dead” a dark seance trap hip-hop ritual pulsing at 75-80 BPM. This track conjures a subterranean vibe with haunting trap beats, spectral synths, and slow-rolling bass that mimics the echo of ancient catacombs—perfect for invoking spirits without overwhelming the raw, introspective flow.
Lyrics delve into the disillusionment with the living dead: society sleepwalking through existence, filling heads with illusions while ghosts of the past reveal truths about power, greed, and elite deceptions. From seance circles channeling vengeful spirits to critiques of hegemony and monopoly, it’s a sonic exorcism urging you to resurrect the unfed parts of your soul amid shadows and tricks of the mind.
If you’re drawn to atmospheric hip-hop that blends occult vibes with social commentary—like a fusion of clipping.‘s experimental edge and early Travis Scott’s trap mysticism—light a candle and dive in. This ain’t just music; it’s a ceremony for the awake.
Lyrics snippet: “Lost hope in the living Everyone talking like they’re already dead. Too many y’all walking, talking, no meaning, That ain’t living If you never make it out your head. In the catacombs of your mind, Only you can find what was never fed.”
#DarkTrap #SeanceHipHop #OccultRap #AtmosphericBeats #UndergroundHipHop #SpiritualAwakening

The Talking Dead [Explicit]

I’m on the high road
Everything below went up in smoke
Did my time, now I let it go
I move slow, that’s how I grow
Yeah, I’m on the high road
Ain’t no hate in the air I blow
If it burn, that’s how it show
Still too chill to lose control

High Road

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WHO DO WE TRUST

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Country Rap, bluesy electric guitar riffs, booming 808 bass, mid-tempo trap-country beat, heavy-hearted yet resilient, lo-fi Southern texture, gritty male vocals, rap verses with soulful choruses, analog warmth

Dusty Roots and Fire

“Chair” is Willa’s brutal, unapologetic revenge anthem. It’s the sound of betrayal turned into violence, where she catches her man cheating and unleashes pure chaos. The imagery is cinematic—rain pounding outside, thunder shaking the walls, and Willa dragging him into a room, tying him to a chair, and slapping him around while spitting venomous bars.

Chair (acoustic demo version)

DJ, Producer, Lyrical Scribe, Musician, and I feel you! YouTube: youtube.com/@gallus-music

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GALLUS

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