This is how the song was originally produced obviously but I had to do some digging online to find it. The one they published on SoundCloud is fast tempo for some reason.

$uicideboy$ - My Scars Are Like Evidence Being Mailed To The Judge  (Edit)

Over eight years, my SoundCloud has quietly passed 1.3 million plays — mostly from a few minimal edits that seemed to find their own gravity. I go by CantSneakUpOnMe, and what I make sits somewhere between editing and interpretation. I take songs that already say something powerful and focus them — a fade-out that lands softer, a transition that breathes longer, or a final moment that feels like it could stay with you a little while after it ends. It’s not about reinventing; it’s about revealing the part that already carried meaning and letting it linger.

The track that made everything real was “My Scars Are Like Evidence…”. It’s the piece that listeners keep returning to — a song that disappeared from SoundCloud for a while and came back stronger, climbing past 600,000 plays. You can tell it’s alive by how it behaves: the play map shows consistent listens across different regions every single month — not sudden bursts, but steady, organic growth. The repeat-listen ratio is unusually high, meaning people aren’t just finding it once; they’re coming back to it again and again. When a song keeps its momentum like that — without promotion, without algorithmic spikes — it’s a sign that it’s become evergreen, something people return to when they need the feeling again.

There’s also something beautiful about how the track has evolved. There’s a slowed-down version and a faster one now, and my original pacing sits between them. Each one has found its own pocket of listeners — some want to sink into it, some want to move with it — and the fact that all three coexist successfully tells me the song has crossed a threshold. It’s not just being heard; it’s being adopted. That’s what a cult following looks like: when people start reshaping a song because it already speaks their language.

What’s striking is how little of this was engineered. I’ve never bought promotion or paid for placement. Every listen has come naturally through organic linking, playlist sharing, and late-night rediscovery. The analytics show small surges from direct links — meaning people are sending it to each other, not stumbling in by algorithm. That’s how a song earns its staying power: not through exposure, but through personal connection.

I think that’s what people respond to in the edits — the restraint. A slow fade-out isn’t technical; it’s emotional. It lets the song exit like a memory instead of a broadcast. That approach has shaped everything I’ve done since. I don’t aim for perfection — I aim for presence.

People have started calling “My Scars Are Like Evidence…” a cult favorite, and I understand why now. The numbers confirm it, but it’s more than that. It’s about the emotional half-life of the sound — the way it continues to find new listeners years later and keeps showing up in different forms and tempos, each time meaning something slightly new. That’s what I care about most: making something that stays alive long after I’ve finished touching it.

I make these edits to find that feeling again — the quiet, human moment when a track stops being just a song and starts being a space people return to. If you’ve ever found one of mine that did that for you, then that’s the success I care about


I rebuild the end and put a fade-out. That’s why my romantic, deep, or slow beat music does so good. Send me your music cantsneakuponme@gmail.com I can work with you if I like what I hear. For real. Don’t hesitate. We may work a contract deal for backend profit if you’re short. 

Check me out on YouTube to find copyright protected material

https://www.youtube.com/@cantsneakuponme


They took down all my popular Suicideboys edits

I am Jesus Christ www.TheLambsTestimony.com

My 420 Better than your 911
https://t.me/DarkerThan666

$uicideboy$ - My Scars Are Like Evidence Being Mailed To The Judge (Edit)

Cantsneakuponme