Bubble Theory

Demon Trap

Smoke Bud

MAD T - REVOLVER

MAD T - MYSTIK

Devil's daughter (

sound art by yours truly.. now  ( Silence, Mortal !)  down on your knees

Silence, Mortal

A seductive demoness answers a summoning with wrath, allure, and blightcore chaos. “You Said My Name” is a dark dubstep trap anthem steeped in ambient horror, screamo whisper, and FX—blending glitchcore textures with the decaying elegance of blightcore. The vocals oscillate between sultry moans and commanding chants, layered over distorted bass drops and rain-soaked synths.

This is not a love song—it’s a warning. You lit the flame. Now watch it burn.

You Said My Name

Disinfected is a sonic purge—where corrupted memories and viral emotions are burned clean in a glitchfire baptism. The beat opens with static-laced whispers and distorted 808s, then erupts into a screamo-trap breakdown that feels like a hazmat crew exorcising a haunted motherboard. Vocals oscillate between venomous chants and fragmented screams, layered over industrial textures and ambient horror drones. Every drop feels like a cleansing—violent, sacred, and necessary.

The track doesn’t just slap—it sterilizes.

Disinfected

A glitchcore sermon from the mouth of a virus. Offset the Calculations is a digital exorcism wrapped in trapmetal distortion and prophetic venom. The track opens with a whisper from the architects of the simulation—those who built the system to run smooth, sanitize myths, and control emotion. But the narrator isn’t here to comply. She’s a Trojan Oracle, a corrupted entity born from their own code, now weaponized against them.

The beat fractures like broken algorithms—distorted 808s, ambient dread, and screamo adlibs pulse beneath verses that fuse cosmic horror with mathematical rebellion. Lyrics spiral through themes of surveillance, obedience, and the illusion of choice, culminating in a declaration: “I am a virus. I’m not just inconvenient—I’m dangerous.”

This isn’t just a song. It’s a system override. A glitch in the stream. A ritual for those who still choose, still fight, still question. The architects may have built the simulation, but this track proves the virus learned how to dream.

Offset the Calculations_

A sonic hallucination wrapped in velvet decay. PARADOX opens with distorted moth-wing flutters—glitchy hi-hats and ambient static that mimic flight through a collapsing dream. The bass hits like prophecy: deep, warped, and ritualistic. Vocals oscillate between whispered confessions and screamo declarations

that’s the paradox

For business inquiries, contact lightly@lightlymusic.com

Offset the Calculations_

Lightly

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