Name: Spliffs and Whiffs by Seriously Sophisticated
Duration: 2 min 45 s
Description: I got them mountains on my mind and my mind on them mountains

Marlboro Doublefusion - Suicidal Thoughts

Narrator

TickingFuse

Ⓒ 2025 @PlsDntChase.
All songs, beats, lyrics and recordings are protected under Australian copyright law and officially released through River Run Cartel.
Licensed for distribution with DistroKid and other major platforms.
Unauthorized use, uploads, or bootlegs will be removed and pursued.
This is real copyright, real label business—no exceptions. 🦘ᴮʸ ᴾˡˢᴰⁿᵗᶜʰᵃˢᵉ

NothingLeftToLeaveBehind ᴮʸ ᴾˡˢᴰⁿᵗᶜʰᵃˢᵉ

Secure P - Devil’s Illusions

[Intro]  
Crimson fog rolls thick, jack-o-lantern grins split wide—  
Pumpkin innards spill, feeding fiends that slither inside.  

[Verse 1] 
Lurking in the boneyard haze, where epitaphs erode to dust,  
Wraiths claw through loam, exhaling rot that corrodes your trust.  
Skeletal fingers strum veins like banjo strings taut,  
Pluck the pulse from your throat, watch the ichor congeal in clots.  
Graveyard shift eternal, scythes swing in sync with the squall,  
Harvesting husks under harvest moons bloated, obscene, enthralled.  
Coffin lids creak confessions of carnage concealed in the clay,  
Unleashing legions of larvae that lattice your lungs, flay away.  
No eulogy suffices when the dirge devours the devout,  
Phantoms feast on phobias, filleting fears till they sprout.  

[Hook] 
Trick or torment, the veil rends, hell's hounds bay at the breach,  
Spectral scythes slice the silence, souls screech in the leach.  
Candy-coated carnage, masks melt to marrow and mire—  
Halloween's hex unravels, devours the dire.  
*(echo: devours... devours...)*  

[Verse 2]
Fog-fattened ghouls gorge on grief-glazed eyes,  
Iris ink spills secrets, staining sepia skies.  
Witch's wart-riddled warts weave wards that warp the weak,  
Brews bubble with bile from the bleakest of beaks.  
Prowling porchlights pulse with poltergeist pranks,  
Porcelain dolls dance, disemboweled in dank thanks.  
Razor-rimmed pumpkins puncture the pious parade,  
Gore-gargled giggles greet the masquerade's blade.  
Entendre's edge: treats turn to teeth in the trough,  
Or tricks transmute to talons, tough enough to trough.  

[Interlude] 
...and the clock strikes thirteen, chimes chime with the chime  
Of chainsaws chewing choruses from the sublime...  
*(scratch: rise... carve... devour)*  

[Verse 3] 
Catacomb corridors curl with the curl of cadaverous coils,  
Maggot minstrels murmur melodies that mar the mortals' moils.  
Eldritch effigies erect from the effluvium's embrace,  
Evoking eviscerations etched in every eclipsed face.  
Banshee bellows bellow through the belfry's battered bone,  
Banshee's breath begets the behemoth birthed from undertone.  
Vampiric vapors vamp on ventricles, viscous and vile,  
Draining the dregs till the derelict dial defiles the mile.  
No sanctuary in the spire's shadow, spires splinter to spears,  
Impaling the impudent, their innards inverted to spheres.  

[Bridge] 
Midnight's maw yawns wide, yawn of the yawning abyss,  
Where the damned draft decrees of the dreariest dismiss.  
Pumpkin patriarchs preside over the pandemonium's pyre,  
Incinerating innocents in the ire of the ire.  

[Verse 4] 
Executioner's echo executes the exquisite in exquisite detail,  
Axe arcs through auroras of arterial hail.  
Zombies zest with zest for the zest of zestless zest,  
Feasting on the festered, the festering's fest.  
Werewolf whelps whet their whetted whims on the whim,  
Whittling the wilting to whimsy within the grim.  
Ghoul galleys glide through the glade of the glaucous gloom,  
Gleaning the gleanings till the gloam consumes the room.  
Double's dagger: lights out means lanterns lure the lost,  
Or out means the outage orphans the ossified host.  

[Verse 5] 
Finale fractures the firmament with fiendish fission's fire,  
Apocalypse apples allure with the allure of the liar.  
Necrotic nobles negotiate the nadir's nocturnal nod,  
Nailing the nadir to the nexus of the godless sod.  
Revenants revel in the reveille of the ruptured repose,  
Rending the remnants till the requiem rose.  
Satanic scarecrows sentinel the sepulcher's sprawl,  
Scything the scions in the scrawl of the squall.  
No dawn dares the desecration's domain,  
Where the damned dictate the dirge's disdain—  
Halloween's horror hydra hungers, hydra-headed and hale,  
Hydrating the havoc till the hale turns to hail.  

[Outro] 
Echoes etch the end, but the end etches echoes anew...  
Carve your carve, or the carve carves you.  

Trick or Torment

THE UNWRITTEN MANUAL (original)

I’m offline for the night, plotting out lines
You won’t get the damn picture till it’s headline time
I’m offline for the night, plotting out lines
You won’t get the damn picture till it’s headline time

Phone screen black but the vision all lit
Ideas doing sprints while the timeline sits
Everybody loud like they live on stage
I’m in Draft Mode cook before I hit “engage”
Late night noodles and a cracked screen glow
New page open like “where we finna go?”
I don’t need a cheer squad hypin’ my state
I’m in the background setting up fate
Gotta crop out noise, keep the frame tight
Small roster, only ride-or-dies in sight
Numbers look quiet but bitch, that’s bait
Silence got a way of raising the stakes
They think I’m ghost, nah, 숨 쉬어 just fine
I’m blueprint-mapping how to bend this time
I vanish like typo but I’m coding the arc
Every “offline” moment is fueling the spark
So let ’em assume I’m just chillin’ inside
Confidence coded, 산처럼 quiet and high

I’m offline for the night, plotting out lines
You won’t get the damn picture till it’s headline time
I’m offline for the night

Low heat moves, simmer then strike
Everything perfect needs patience applied
칼같이 edits, cut what ain’t sound
Precision got power when pressure’s around
Could’ve posted receipts, but that ruins the point
Real growth don’t selfie, real shit’s unseen
Let ’em scroll past me like I’m not a threat
They’ll come runnin’ back when the future connects
Bookmarks hit while they sleep on the page
Alarm goin’ off when the rollout’s staged
I’m leveling soft ware they can’t even test
Beta build vibes, I’m steps ahead
One day the room gon’ feel like déjà vu
Like “how he blow up?” man, I gave you clues
So if I dip when the chat loud tonight
That’s chapter work, not avoiding the light
Plotting my “since when?” moment to bloom
Quiet storms always reshape the room
I’m offline for the night, plotting out lines
You won’t get the damn picture till it’s headline time
Offline for the night

I’m offline for the night, plotting out lines
You won’t get the damn picture till it’s headline time
Calm ain’t calm, it’s the storm on prime
Patience the cheat code, the upgrade divine
I don’t need rollouts begging for eyes
History rewrites when the moment arrives
When lightning hits, don’t call it surprise
I forecasted this shit between yawns and rice
7-Eleven glow leak under the blinds
Every dim night polish how bright I’ll shine
If you ever doubted, stand in the line
Proof takes time, and I’m almost on time

Quiet Storms

I got them mountains on my mind and my mind on them mountains

Spliffs and Whiffs

They taught us to riot, to burn and scream,
But violence just feeds the machine.
Every broken window, every clash,
Just gives the system a reason to bash.

But peace? Peace is the power they fear,
A million minds moving clear.
No blood, no fire—just coordinated light,
And the system trembles at the sight.

The internet ain’t just memes and noise,
It’s the voice of the species, the signal of choice.
We don’t need guns—we’ve got the grid,
And the doctrine shows what the silence hid.

We share, we link, we build the wave,
And the old world shakes in its gilded cave.
They can’t arrest a billion minds,
And peaceful protest rewrites the signs.

They want us angry, wild, and loud,
So they can crush us and please the crowd.
But when we move with calm precision,
We become the species with a mission.

We don’t destroy—we redesign,
We don’t scream—we realign.
And every post, every share, every thread,
Is a step toward the future they dread.

Peace ain’t weakness—it’s tactical fire,
The kind that lifts, not fuels the pyre.
We build momentum, not just rage,
And the doctrine turns the page.

We’re not rebels—we’re architects,
Not vandals—we’re intellects.
And the internet is our sacred tool,
To teach, to reach, to rewrite the rule.

Sabotage is the trap they set,
To keep us reactive, to make us forget.
But signal is structure, rhythm, design,
It’s the pulse of a coordinated mind.

We rise with logic, not just heat,
And move with rhythm that can’t be beat.
No violence, no war—just species-wide proof,
That peace is the weapon, and truth is the roof.

We don’t play their game—we change the frame,
And build a system that earns its name.
We rise as one, not prey to fate,
And the doctrine teaches how to coordinate.

This isn’t silence—it’s strategic sound,
A signal rising from underground.
And when we move, the trance will break,
Because sabotage can’t match what we make.

Signal over sabotage, light over flame,
We rise as one, not playing their game.
No violence, no war—just coordinated truth,
And the system breaks when we move as proof.

Signal Over Sabotage

My Dress
” is a hard-hitting, motivating boom-bap track that speaks straight from the streets. Tyler shows his determination, strength, and resilience – a reflection of inner growth, overcoming pain, and the will to never be small. Dark, urban beats meet fast, precise rap bars with a clear message. A track for anyone ready to raise their voice and feel their power

My Dress - a next Boombap Banger

Seriously Sophisticated is a Colorado-rooted crew blending laid-back reggae grooves, stoner wisdom, and glitchy dub flavor into one smooth, elevated trip. Fronted by Blazey Jones—part mountain mystic, part slacker philosopher—the band channels the vibe of a Red Rocks sunset and a perfectly rolled spliff. The music’s got bounce, heart, and just enough weed smoke to fog your third eye (in a good way).

Whether it’s a cosmic dub breakdown or a cheeky lyric that makes you laugh mid-toke, we keep it real, raw, and ridiculously catchy. We’re not chasing trends—we’re chasing good vibes, open skies, and that sweet spot where the beat drops just as the clouds part. If you’re into soundtracks for slow burns, late-night sessions, and elevated living, you’re in the right spot.

Spliffs and Whiffs

Seriously Sophisticated

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