jaytoanti - secret ways (prod.1eworld)

Stay Awake is a raw, unfiltered look at modern survival through the eyes of an exhausted parent who's been up for three days straight. Over haunting production that shifts from minimal trap to orchestral intensity, the track dismantles the glorification of corruption and "hustle culture," revealing it as expensive escapism rather than strength. 

With a soulful female hook contrasting hard-hitting verses, the song calls out how the system benefits when people mistake numbness for toughness and avoidance for rebellion. We know the games rigged; this is an expose of how even the supposed resistance has been weaponized against us.

The real power lies in its central message: true courage is staying present and awake while the world chooses to sleep. This is conscious rap that doesn't preach but simply tells the truth about what it costs to stay human in an inhuman system. Human Lyrics. Beats and production with AI.

Stay Awake[Explicit]

Written, performed, mixed and mastered by Cozmo Jethro.
Featuring my daughter, Lydia Matamoros-Lapp.
Beat by Auditory Ecstasy https://soundcloud.com/auditory-ecstasy, remixed by Cozmo Jethro.
Album art created in Image Creator by Microsoft Designer and Canva.

Hit it Dad!

Mannn another summer down.
In the Pacific Northwest we go to town.
Summer 25 revive what we does.
Next installment of the summer that was. 

It started, I DJed my first wedding.
Then DJ Real visited from Australia.
Traveled to Chicago, college visit for Lydia.
Crissy’s birthday bash ha ha aw yea!

11th wedding anniversary at a mansion.
A family member passed way too young.
All summer me and Nasty collaboration.

Now sit back relax, take a trip with us.
Me and Lydia flippin the rhymes.
Let’s relive this summer one more time.

Summer I drove my dad back and forth.
To the Bamboo Garden where we both work.
Windows rolled down.
Feel the summer breeze.
Life in the rhythm, takin it with ease.

Me and my dad got that beat on repeat.
Ridin to work in that summer heat.
Feel the vibe, feel the flow, bass so deep.
Life in the rhythm takin it with ease.

Summer started, DJed my first wedding.
Crissy’s friend Jennifer marrying Urlet.
I ran the console and played the jams.
Up in that church, we rocked it, dayam!

The next day DJ Real from Australia.
Here in the flesh, and lemme tell ya.
He traveled with his daughter to the West Coast.
Hung with us in Portland, chillin the most.

Comraderie of one of my favorite collaborators.
Was immediate and we bonded to the beat.
Then off to Chicago the very next week.
Dropped Lydia off at college 2 weeks.

Then in Chicago we stayed with great friends.
From way back when, Mike and Randee, aw yea!

Summer I drove my dad back and forth.
To the Bamboo Garden where we both work.
Windows rolled down.
Feel the summer breeze.
Life in the rhythm, takin it with ease.

Me and my dad got that beat on repeat.
Ridin to work in that summer heat.
Feel the vibe, feel the flow, bass so deep.
Life in the rhythm takin it with ease.

50 Years my wife has been live.
Had a bash at Skate Haven Farm, that’s fly.
Elle and her band, came and rocked the house.
The Hidden Gems, yo, lit it up, wow!

Our friends and fam, party on our property.
Unforgettable 50th birthday.

Whole fam went to Seattle to say goodbye,
To a family member, celebrate his life.
He was cut short at 49 years old.
Rest in peace Curtis Paris, you lived life bold.

Then came me and Crissy’s wedding anniversary.
At a mansion like g g g g Gatsby.
17000 square feet to ourselves,
Aint gonna say what happened, but dayam, welllll.

Summer I drove my dad back and forth.
To the Bamboo Garden where we both work.
Windows rolled down.
Feel the summer breeze.
Life in the rhythm, takin it with ease.

Me and my dad got that beat on repeat.
Ridin to work in that summer heat.
Feel the vibe, feel the flow, bass so deep.
Life in the rhythm takin it with ease.

So 2025 was the summer that was.
Sayin goodbye to fam.
Celebratin milestones.
Celebratin life as we all get older.
Live up every summer until it’s over!

Summer I drove my dad back and forth.
To the Bamboo Garden where we both work.
Windows rolled down.
Feel the summer breeze.
Life in the rhythm, takin it with ease.

Me and my dad got that beat on repeat.
Ridin to work in that summer heat.
Feel the vibe, feel the flow, bass so deep.
Life in the rhythm takin it with ease.

Summer 2025. Yea.
Me and Lydia getting live!

The Summer That Was 2025 (feat. Lydia) (Prod. Auditory Ecstasy)

Wish these words were just echoes Of real conversations, Journal entries I fondly recall— Lived revelations. I write and I write, til it Reads like déjà vu, But this the first time I'm hearing it— Not really sure Who's speaking to who.

I compose verses like prayers, Petitions, the repetitions like a ritual Might replace what never was, make a memory out of hot air, Might just feel real enough to fill The space you left where words were Meant to be.

People leave so much silence Between each other, Bodies 
sprawled across the battlefield, Too many of our wounded, We leave less than we were, Neither side refused to yield, Only retreated to rebuild, But if it's lost it can only be recovered,
The wounded can only be healed,
No one can replace another. We leave the scene like a graveyard, We learn to abandon ourselves When overpowered—only means of surviving.

Others build an invisible wall, Bricks baked in rage and hate, Mortar of omissions, Can't see out, built too tall. Or maybe it was always there, Just never got close enough To even care... So much thought, so much felt, Every heartbeat like a finger on a key— A typewriter typing Scrolls stored on shelves No one will ever read. Waiting to be received, Stale air intercedes better than a vacuum left By words that can't be summoned, Can't be heard, won't be believed.

We all hold more secrets Than the Vatican archives, Language lives in our DNA, From day one they've tried To bar the doors, turn our nature From a key into a cage, Condition us to hide, To fear what we feel inside, Rather stop looking than Reject our very essence, Our true life, Once, twice, thrice— Eternally, So we compromise.

I don't measure relationships in time— Sometimes more time Just leaves more space, More days, more choices To feel we've drifted far away. Like we just met once but speaking freely Might make us closer than A lifetime of just being near me, But never hearing me, Not speaking from your own voice.

Like how I don't really Know my father, or my mother Even though I see them Damn near every week. We can't really see, can't conceive What we can't speak. Can't always speak what we mean, Don't always mean what we speak, Sometimes we mistake maps For the terrain, without taking a step, Claim we're at the highest peak.

Just another shortcut On easy street. No effort at all, Already feel like you know me.

I have so many conversations With my imagination, Holding spaces for the pages We numbered, dated, and left blank. Only difference between you and me— I know when I'm speaking To my fabrications, I leave room for your reality. The show must go on they say, But know, I'm still waiting, Still listening, for the words You speak, when you're ready— Go ahead, just don't speak for me.

Picture that, grown man still wondering If his parents really loved him Or only loved what they thought of him Until he failed to become that. Wondering if anyone That ever said they loved him, Only loved him when he became Everything they lacked. Hard to know, I would ask them, But can't find them, They didn't stick around— Where they at?

Words and worlds might meet when we Treat them with reverence, Speak them with wisdom and know The word is not the thing,
Words require severance ,
between what is thought and what is felt, The phrase is not the full expression, Words are not what they mean— They're more like a suggestion
Of where to look, where to find
A place to meet somewhere in between.

But instead y'all keep reading
Behavior, polls, deviations,
Like statistics must be more real
Than the people creating them.
Tell me, do you feel it
When I say "Dilaudid"?
Does that word hit different
Than when it hits the bloodstream?
Stop reducing me to data points—
I'm not a number, not a name,
And pain ain't ever been the same.

The way you’ve butchered words,
Means a stagnant silence  only way to stay safe,
Frozen, decaying
Nothing left to say.

Echoes

A Three-Movement Hip-Hop Symphony About Art, Surveillance, and Survival
Part I: The Scam (Intimate Confession)
Minimal piano and brush strokes
A painter gets excited about selling their first piece—30 hours of work, a lifetime of imagination. Then comes the gut punch: "It's a scam." What follows is a raw meditation on trying to create in a world that's weaponized hope itself. The beat stays minimal, letting the story breathe while AI glitch sounds underscore how machines feast on stolen creativity.
Part II: The Panopticon (Industrial Paranoia)
Surveillance static and heavy bass
The personal becomes political as the track shifts into darker territory. They can track your gait from 50 meters away, know your heartbeat, catalog your entire life—but somehow can't stop the scammers bleeding artists dry. Industrial sounds and found surveillance audio create an atmosphere of technological claustrophobia.
Part III: The Revelation (Revolutionary Clarity)
Building to orchestral climax
The final movement strips away all pretense: "They fucking hate those who can create / But they gotta have it." This isn't incompetence—it's systematic torture. The production explodes into its most aggressive form as the narrator realizes the surveillance state protects the criminals, not the victims. Ends with defiant clarity: "Make art for your soul, not to serve their fear."
A complete journey from personal heartbreak to systemic understanding—conscious rap that hits like a documentary, flows like poetry, and burns like truth.

Nothing to See Here[Explicit]

Researcher, artist, gemologist, storyteller, conscious rap artist exploring consciousness transformation through multiple disciplines.

My music is a visceral anthem of rebellion against corruption, in a landscape where authenticity is often performed and truth is sanitized, I mine some of the darkest corners of modern existence to transmit pure, unfiltered reality. My catalog reads like a manifesto for the sleepless, the struggling, systemically forgotten; as well as those recovering, healing, and seeking more depth in modern chaos.

I dissect the machinery of control with surgical precision. I’m recording autopsies of a dying system from the perspective of someone who's living inside its grinding gears. Where others see hustle culture and rebellion, I reveal expensive escapism and manufactured compliance.

My process mirrors my message: no shortcuts, no sacrifice of truth to make it more palatable, just raw human experience translated into rhythm and rhyme. Writing often happens in those liminal spaces—three days without sleep, caring for a sick child, watching the world burn in slow motion. These are survival reports from the front lines of late-stage capitalism, often based on my actual lived reality.

My inspiration draws from a unique vantage point: educated enough to use precise, domain-specific language, aware enough too see the patterns, struggling enough to feel the weight, parent enough to know what's at stake.

This is hip-hop as consciousness raising, beat-making as resistance, and storytelling as survival. In a world that profits from keeping people asleep, staying awake becomes our superpower. Inspired by artists like MF Doom, Notorious BIG, Cal Scruby, V1V1D, Lupe Fiasco, Common, B.O.B., 99 Neighbors, Glass Animals, Matt Maeson, Classic Rock and Alternative Rock.

Real strength is staying present while the whole world runs away.

Nothing to See Here[Explicit]

Inspirited In Sight

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