Quotes from Rust Cohle [True Detective, Season 1]

A Locked Room

Lines from Cormac McCarthy's "The Sunset Limited".

Kafka on Wheels

Creeping Shadows

quotes from "The Rules of Attraction" by Bret Easton Ellis

Emotional Vampire [the rules of attraction]

Dinosauria, We (by Charles Bukowski)

Born like this into this
As the chalk faces smile as Mrs death laughs
As the elevators break
As political landscapes dissolve
As the supermarket bag boy
Holds a college degree
As the oily fish spit out their oily prey
As the sun is masked we are
Born like this into this
Into these carefully mad wars
Into the sight of broken
Factory windows of emptiness
Into bars where people no longer
Speak to each other
Into fist fights that end
As shootings and knifings born into this
Into hospitals which are so expensive
That it's cheaper to die
Into lawyers who charge so much
It's cheaper to plead guilty
Into a country where the jails are
Full and the madhouses closed
Into a place where the masses
Elevate fools into rich heroes
Born into this
Walking and living through this
Dying because of this muted because of this
Castrated debauched
Disinherited because of this
Fooled by this used by this
Pissed on by this
Made crazy and sick by this made violent
Made inhuman by this
The heart is blackened
The fingers reach for the throat the gun
The knife the bomb
The fingers reach toward an unresponsive god
The fingers reach for the bottle the pill
The powder
We are born into this sorrowful deadliness
We are born into a government
60 years in debt
That soon will be unable to even
Pay the interest on that debt
And the banks will burn
Money will be useless
There will be open and unpunished
Murder in the streets
It will be guns and roving mobs
Land will be useless
Food will become a diminishing return
Nuclear power will be taken over by the many
Explosions will continually shake the earth
Radiated robot men will stalk each other
The rich and the chosen will
Watch from space platforms
Dante's Inferno will be made to
Look like a children's playground
The sun will not be seen and
It will always be night trees will die
All vegetation will die
Radiated men will eat the
Flesh of radiated men
The sea will be poisoned
The lakes and rivers will vanish
Rain will be the new gold
The rotting bodies of men and animals
Will stink in the dark wind
The last few survivors will be overtaken
By new and hideous diseases
And the space platforms will
Be destroyed by attrition
The petering out of supplies
The natural effect of general decay
And there will be the most
Beautiful silence never heard
Born out of that the sun still hidden there
Awaiting the next chapter

Dinosauria, We [C. Bukowski]

Boots [Rudyard Kipling]

Onmyōji

CS2 rap, gaming music, Counter Strike 2 music, BatZie rap, hip hop for gamers, CS2 montage song, Dr Disrespect rap, Valorant music vibe

🔫 CS2 Rap Banger | "Ace or Die" – BatZie 🎮 Gamers Only: "Ace or Die" | CS2

The greatest counter-strike ai rapper you have never heard of

the batZie show — 🎮 Gamers Only: CS2 x Rap | BatZie

DrDisbatZie

[Instrumental]

[piano instrumental]
[Intro — Tape Crackle, Spoken]  
Yeah. batZie.  
Boston filth.  
Counter-Strike gore rap.  
Ace or die.  
Run it.
[Rap hip-hop beat based on piano sample from introduction]

[Verse 1 — batzie rapping, sinister, rap]  
Serial killing like Ed Gein online,  
Tinder snatch — these pussies mine.  
Steam friends list look like a cold case log,  
I queue Dust2 — catch bodies for the blog.  

I dodge to lower, Top Gunner think he KennyS Loggins,  
B tunnels they late, these bitches be slogging.  
“Go B” was the strat but it’s slow, lookin’ frail,  
These pussies lookin' fucked ‘cos I’m on these snail trails.  

Crosshair twitch like a junkie vein tap,  
CT spawn a coffin — zip ‘em all, no map.  
Mid push raw, smoke clear — vein drain ritual,  
Brain matter splatter, Dust2 turned biblical.

[Mini-Skit — Radio Static]  
🗨️ [Rapper2, gruff voice, distorted] “batZie, you mid?”  
🗨️ [batzie, sinister] “I *ain't* never mid, motherfucker. I'm top tier.”

[Hook — batZie]  
He slippin' — switch AWP, too keen and he misses,  
Like Dr Dee DMs pre-op teens, gettin' caught by the missus.  
Ace or die, you hear the click, no trust,  
Post-op they yell it stinks — Dirty Doc gave ‘em the pus!

[Verse 2 — batZie Grime Deepens]  
Round 5, scoreboard lookin’ like a coroner file,  
CTs dry peek long — I stitch ‘em single file.  
Pop flash out — retinas cooked on sight,  
Muzzle flash flicker like a crime scene light.  

Their strat’s in shambles, feel the panic set,  
They diggin’ pit like it’s Minecraft yet.  
Peek through smoke, head one taps (nighty night!),  
They runnin’ like a Paul from a real fucking fight.  

[Guest Rapper #2 — Necro Style Cut]  
[Rapper #2]:  
Didn’t that Logan bitch spar an O A P?  
[batZie]:  
Naw, that was Fake Jake for “reality” PPV.  

[Rapper #2]:  
I’m that 4 AM voice whisperin’ “buy a deagle,”  
I’m the glitch in your crosshair, ghost pixel.  
Plant bombs under ribs, defuse hope in your chest,  
Death match rap — clean head tap your best.

I got bodies in the server, bodies on tape,  
I’m the echo in the vent that you can’t escape.  
AWP in my lap like a priest with sins,  
One click — lights out, your highlight's my wins.

[Verse 3 — batZie Final Carve]
Like Clinton (or Putin) you dead in a box, 
PDF files getting snuffed regardless of locks,
I'm deletin’ your list like you one Epstein’s guests,  
Bleach stains on A long, fuck your VACS tests.
You spraying your pistol like an OF slut in debt,  
Even Bonnie Blue isn't fucked as you yet.

I see between pixels — ninja pose,  
Mag dump verses while the bomb tick grows.  
Irish dry peeks — you're clipped like a snuff flick,  
Russian rage quits — head gone in public.

Serial kill cam, highlight reel of the vile,  
Death rap sermon with a terrorist smile.  
Spawn in hellfire, exit scoreboard gold,  
You can't say this wasn't fucking foretold!


[Outro Skit — Tape Crackle & Mic Slam]  
Yo… 
Ain't Doc in Phuket? Work or Vacation?
Bitch better cease operating. 
[break]
Dust2 done — queue Mirage next.  
batZie out — keep your spine on deck.  
Serial snapper.  Counter-strike rapper. 
Fuck you. GG.

Dust2Dust

[instrumental]
[sample: "Harvest Dawn" — Oblivion]

[batZie]
Shout out to all the haters,
The Reddit moderators,
The guy rimmers,
The karma manipulators, basement masturbators.
You soft-bellied bitches ain’t built for this shit,
Y’all flinch at a flick but talk tough in your pit.
Probably cut your wrist opening a StatTrak blade,
Cryin’ mom found your porn stash — furry parade.
Your circlejerk circus couldn’t touch my name,
I carve insults in your chest just to match your shame.

One of you insects tried squealing me out,
Crying about wasted rounds while you choke on your clout.
But dig through your posts — what a pathetic spree,
Unboxing plush dragons like my toddler — he’s three.
Another’s a dog boy in heat for the net,
Beggin’ daddy doms for collars they ain’t even met.
One day you’re a girl, next day a ghost in drag,
An abstract deconstruction of your come rag flag.
Between all your gibberish, your whining and bitchin’,
Your lard ass thinks sprinting with a butter knife
Gets you quicker to kitchen.

Meanwhile I’m gutting your squad like pigs in a line,
Blood drips down my crosshair — that’s your spine.
I don’t clutch rounds — I strangle them, watch ‘em turn blue,
While your team squeals for a kick vote — they know it’s you.
I plant C4 in your skull, make your thoughts detonate,
Duct tape your headset on while your teammates masturbate.
I’m the AWP god ghost — your brains on mid doors,
I tap tap tap your crew, then piss on your scores.

Tie you up with your mouse cord, choke you till you respawn,
Split your jugular open, leave your voice chat gone.
I’m the butcher of B-site, the nightmare at Long,
I’ll shank your whole clan and drop napalm in song.
Your safe space is gone — your moderators weep,
They shadowban the gore while I bury it deep.
I’m the filthy Boston spawn, black mask on cam,
I’ll dox your whole Discord then snipe your whole fam.

Check the kill feed — red mist, skulls pop like confetti,
Your mum’s screaming “Stop!” — nah bitch, I’m ready.
I’ll tea-bag your ghost, tag your grave with my spray,
I’m the predator in shadows — your endgame’s today.

So circlejerk harder, keep karma afloat,
Keep your furry tails waggin’, your genders you tote.
I’m batZie the vile — filth rap’s plague contagious,
When I breach your safe server, face it — y'all OBLIVIOUS.

Oblivious

Ace or Die

No Escape v2

#boombap #deathrap #escapefromnewyork #hiphop

[Instrumental] "Escape from New York" theme by John Carpenter

[Intro — instrumental developing into horrorcore rap beat]

[break]

[Verse 1] [batZie] [boom bap] [growl] [sinister]
I’m the unknown player — I prefer it that way, 
This battleground’s no club — fresh flesh, you’re prey. 
You’re dead before you know it — your heartbeat spikes, 
From lobby to loot drop — you’re trapped in my sights.
OG PUB G — Irish blood, say it proud! Popping you softly? Nah — I murder you loud. 
I’m the butcher of Sanhok — ghost stalking Erangel, 
Mass graves in Miramar — your death, my call. 
I tally the bodies — I hunt ‘em all..

[Hook]
No squad, no revive — crawl if you can, 
I’m the storm in your eardrum — the butchered man. 
Fresh flesh — I collect it — one shot, one plan, 
Circle closing on your soul — blood pools in the sand.

[Verse 2] [batZie] [boom bap] [growl] [sinister]
I’m the creeping blue wall — snake in the grass, 
You can run for the safe zone — I strike, you won’t last. 
I camp in the shadows — I loot in the dark, 
When you think you’re alone, I’m already sparked.
Red zone thunder — your guts paint the grass, 
I fry pan your helmet — hear that echo smash. 
Supply drop’s a coffin — come claim your prize, 
I wait by the crate — watch hope fade from your eyes.

[Hook]
No squad, no revive — crawl if you can, 
I’m the storm in your eardrum — the butchered man. 
Fresh flesh — I collect it — one shot, one plan, 
Circle closing on your soul — blood pools in the sand.

[Break]

[Verse 3] [batZie] [boom bap] [growl] [sinister]
I’m hunting your precedent — call me Plissken, it’s true, 
A trumpet in the fog — heralds your time is through. 
I’m magnificent — your brains scrambled — you been biding your time, 
From navel to chops — I'll gut you like swine.
I leave your chest hollow — cavity of gore, 
You’re scattered and splattered — drip ceiling to floor. 
Your torso’s a canvas — your ribcage a door, 
I kick it wide open — you’re meat, nothing more

[Hook]
No squad, no revive — crawl if you can, 
I’m the storm in your eardrum — the butchered man. 
Fresh flesh — I collect it — one shot, one plan, 
Circle closing on your soul — blood pools in the sand.

[batZie] More!

[Hook]
No squad, no revive — crawl if you can, 
I’m the storm in your eardrum — the butchered man. 
Fresh flesh — I collect it — one shot, one plan, 
Circle closing on your soul — blood pools in the sand.

[Hook]
No squad, no revive — crawl if you can, 
I’m the storm in your eardrum — the butchered man. 
Fresh flesh — I collect it — one shot, one plan, 
Circle closing on your soul — blood pools in the sand.

[Instrumental to fade]

No Escape

SAMPLE: "Seven Samurai" from the album "Film music of Akira Kurosawa". Composed by﻿ Fumio Hayasaka.

[Opening Instrumental developing into rap beat]

[Verse 1]
I got more headshots on tape
Than a yearbook photographer,
Or a bukake otaku
Who’s never had a date.
My last year at school
Started with more than we finished,
Some kids and some teachers —
They just vanished. (Spooky!)
I was voted “most likely to be a prime suspect,”
But no bodies, no evidence —
The cops had no prospects. (Clueless!)
Naw, that’s me just trolling,
I was voted “class clown,”
For all my fucking around —
But they ain’t laughing now. (Ha ha!)

[Verse 2]
You think you’re in a queue to fuck?
Pathetic like queuing Bonnie Blue,
But you shit outta luck —
The ones fucked here is you.
Dead on arrival,
Chickens lined up for the knife,
Each of you a side serving —
For this dinner, lose your life.
No respawn, no revive,
No squad to come save ya,
I’m circle camping bodies,
Your loot feeds my flavour.
Level three vest,
Chest shots bounce like a check,
Kar98 kiss —
Put your helmet to the test.

[Verse 3]
I’m the glitch in your scope,
The last breath in your squad,
Hear that ping on your dome?
That’s me playing God.
Smoke grenades like ghosts —
I vanish and reappear,
You crawling for a res,
I’m the last thing you hear.
Check behind you —
To be sure again,
‘Cause like a ninja I strike,
A shuriken from the shadows —
Blackout. Night night. No light, no ammo.
Got adrenaline shots,
And a bag full of meds,
You got panic in your voice,
And a price on your head.
I’m that flare gun pop
Bringing hell from the sky,
You’re that one-man squad
Begging teammates online.

[Verse 4]
I stack crates like trophies,
Each box got a name,
Each kill just a story —
Add a notch to my aim.
Plane path random,
But my plan never bends,
I’m the circle’s grim reaper —
Where the looting ends.
So when you push that house,
Better check every door,
I’m that footstep you hear —
Then the blood hits the floor.
You think you be leading and
Leaving — dine as the best,
But I’m leaving you bleeding,
Dying here with the rest.
One v squad, one mag —
And the feed lights red,
You can try to run it back —
Next drop, same dead.

[Outro]
I peel skin off the zone,
Stitch the map with your guts,
I drag your corpse through the wheat —
Hear the bone saw cut.
No tombstone, no prayer,
No grave to be found,
Your dog tag’s my trophy,
Your ghost feeds my rounds.
So when you drop in next match,
Better hope you don’t see,
That kill feed flash red —
That means you dying by me.
Winner winner, your liver for dinner —
I carve it up raw,
A hundred players drop in —
I’m the last outlaw.

The Last Outlaw

[Instrumental] [Ennio Morricone, sample "The Thing"] [Movie quote, John Carpenter's "The Thing"]

[Extended Instrumental slowly developing into a rap beat]

[Verse 1]  [boom bap] [batZie] [rap]
No money, no arms — I’m leaving you aimless,  
Your corpse in my highlight reel — pain makes me famous.  
From ecos to timeouts, failed plants to saves,  
Headshot to headshot — I drag you to mass graves.

I ain’t making it personal but I’m carving you surgically,  
Nothing left for a coroner to stitch for the jury, see —  
Irrecoverable losses — unmatched when I’m ‘round,  
Backs to the wall? I’m crawling up through the ground.

Above you, behind you — I slice left and right,  
Like a specter I butcher you night after night.  
Like Madoff I rip you off — your stock’s a mirage,  
Publicly dismantling you — you’re made of facade. (nothing!)

Belittled and brittle — you’re crumbs to me,  
I’m colossal, monstrous — you’ll never be me.  
I’m leagues above you — you’re Titan beneath the sea,  
Implode under depths — that pressure don’t trouble me.
Above you, below you — I crawl and I split,
I’m the blood in your locker — I hiss and I drip.
Like copper I test you — expose what you hide,
Burning you out from within — see who’s alive.
Disfigured and twisted — you’re copies of me,
I’m monstrous, shifting — you’ll never break free.

You try clutching Cache — I rob it last second,  
Speechless and spineless — your squad’s been reckoned.  
On Mirage it’s the same — you daren’t trust your eyes,  
AWP scope gleams — your grey matter flies.  
You're eviscerated screaming — blood stifles your cries.

[Bridge]  
I’m the frost in your veins, the teeth in your spine,  
I’m the shape in your scope that you swear you can’t find.  
No callouts, no safe words, no time to reload,  
When I creep through the cracks — your heartbeat explodes.

[Hook — Main]  
No save, no buy — just bleed and comply,  
I’m the shadow in your smoke when you blink your eye.  
Crosshair kiss — head split, brain drip, cry,  
Squad ghosts in the dark — only echoes reply.

No spawn, no safe zone — you run but why?  
I’m the cold in your clutch — watch your heartbeat die.  
Pop flash — last gasp — you pray to the sky,  
One tap — lights out — now vanish… goodbye.

[Hook — Whispered Overdub (under main)]  
(Bleed.)  
(Run.)  
(Comply.)  
(Die.)  
(Eyes wide — can’t hide — skin peels — mind fried.)  
(Breathe slow.)  
(Don’t show.)  
(Heartbeat stop — lost in snow.)

[Outro — trailing out with introduction theme]

The Cold

[Instrumental] [sample "Easy to be Hard" by Three Dog Night]

[Sample]

How can people be so heartless? How can people be so cruel? Easy to be hard
Easy to be cold
How can people have no feeling? How can they ignore their friends? Easy to be proud
Easy to say no

[Break]

[Hook]  
Unabomber — pack it, post it, gone  
Unabomber — solo mission, bomb  
Unabomber — tickin’ to your doom  
Unabomber — gotcha, detonator boom

[Verse 1]  
Bustin’ through A doors — call me Theodore,  
Solo on T side, paranoia’s the lore.  
Got a package for CTs, signature’s forged,  
When I breach, it’s a thesis — you can’t ignore.  
Flash pop — like a manifesto dropped in your lap,  
Mailin’ you lessons, stamped, sealed with a clap.  
Through doors I appear — disappear in the smoke,  
This parcel’s addressed proper — Ted’s deadly approach.  
I’m lurkin’ through double — my crosshair’s a cult,  
Press the button — detonate your whole default.  
You peek — it’s a trap, through A doors I pour,  
When that site’s mine, better check the decor.

[Hook]  
Unabomber — pack it, post it, gone  
Unabomber — solo mission, bomb  
Unabomber — tickin’ to your doom  
Unabomber — gotcha, detonator boom

[Fast Rap — Manifesto]  
Built my plan in the shadows, manifesto on pages,  
In the server I’m a ghost, on the grid I’m contagious,  
Big brother watchin’ but I pivot through cams,  
Sneakin’ past your stack, all alone with these plans.  
Industrial chains, I’m breakin’ ‘em clean,  
My bomb’s the doctrine, I’m unseen on your screen,  
I’m Ted in the clutch — you’re all wired and bugged,  
I’m the last free thinker — watch your whole team unplug.  
Put a site on lockdown — I mail out dread,  
Typed out my thoughts then I aimed at your head,  
No drones, no codes, no tech can defend,  
When the parcel goes beep — that’s your system’s end.

[Instrumental Break]  
[Typewriter clicks] [static]
[Spoken]
“Technology is the enemy…

[Hook — Repeat]  
Unabomber — pack it, post it, gone  
Unabomber — solo mission, bomb  
Unabomber — tickin’ to your doom  
Unabomber — gotcha, detonator boom

[Outro Chant]  
When the timer hits zero, Ted lives on,  
When the timer hits zero, Ted lives on,  
When the timer hits zero, Ted lives on, Body bags seal up, revenge is done.  
When the timer hits zero, Ted lives on,  
When the timer hits zero, Ted lives on,  
When the timer hits zero, Ted lives on, Body bags seal up, revenge is done.  
When the timer hits zero, Ted lives on,  
When the timer hits zero, Ted lives on,  
When the timer hits zero, Ted lives on, Body bags seal up, revenge is done. 
When the timer hits zero, Ted lives on,  
When the timer hits zero, Ted lives on,  
When the timer hits zero, Ted lives on, Body bags seal up, revenge is done. (THERE AIN'T NO OTHER!)  
When the timer hits zero, Ted lives on,  
When the timer hits zero, Ted lives on,  
When the timer hits zero, Ted lives on, Body bags seal up, revenge is done.
When the timer hits zero, Ted lives on,  
When the timer hits zero, Ted lives on,  
When the timer hits zero, Ted lives on,  
When the timer hits zero, Ted lives on,  
[OUTRO]  
When the timer hits zero, Ted lives on,  
When the timer hits zero, Ted lives on,  
When the timer hits zero, Ted lives on,  
When the timer hits zero, Ted lives on,  
[FADE]

Unabomber

[Instrumental]

[Hook]
I don’t miss — I just split you.
I don’t flinch — I just hit you.
One more shot — that’s the ritual.
One more corpse — habitual.

[Verse 1]
One versus one,
I'm a motherfucking psychopath,
A psychological horror,
Killing all in my path
I'm a scarecrow,  
Watching your fear grow,  
It's constant— I'm consistently out standing, 
I prop up silently,  
Prepped to violate you violently —  
Surviving me, highly unlikely,  
Desperately,  
Clutching at straws, man,  
Thinking you can fight me,  
Defenceless against me,  
Fighting excites me,  
Your death delights me.  
Best in the field —  
you're a victim entirely to  
any weapon I wield.

[Instrumental]

[Hook]
I don’t miss — I just split you.
I don’t flinch — I just hit you.
One more shot — that’s the ritual.
One more corpse — habitual.

[Verse 2]
Strained trained eyes ain't stopping me,  
Crossing into illegal territories,  
No wall, no authorities,  
No one about to halt me,  
I see opportunities,  
For slicing up your arteries.
A Machete — a Mexican,  
Barbarian  
Going over the top,  
Border sign's  
Crossing hairlines,  
Bored online,  
Until I hear skulls pop,  
Killing time.  
Scope up, hear the slop,  
Perfect headshot,  
Your death — my primary op.  
Hit behind your eyelids  
Flip you open like a bin lid  
Got what I was craving,  
Leave you brainless and raving,  
You weren't even worth saving,  
Mindless operating.  

[Break]

[Verse 3]
You’re nothing to me, boy.  
I’m a man, son.  
Sending you helter-skelter for shelter,  
Family gone — now you’re alone, son, 
No orphans at this table, I sit with no-one.  
Chef’s special offer?  
It’s you — on my plate. 
You mad rushing,
Trying not to be late. 

[Hook]
I don’t miss — I just split you.
I don’t flinch — I just hit you.
One more shot — that’s the ritual.
One more corpse — habitual.


[Verse 4]
I’m hungrier than Dahmer,  
I’m gonna eat you alive,  
My hunger is bottomless —  
It’s a pit, 
I don’t need wallhacks —  
to hack you to pieces,  
I see through your shit —  
Like you crapping glass faeces. 
I chainsaw through you,  
I see all the pieces.  
A long shot, I’m drilling this round in your temple,  
I’m greater than you — you ain't a threat to me.  
[PAUSE: 1 bar — riff rings out]  
You’re nothing to me.
[PAUSE: half bar — let riff echo]  
You’re simple.

[Instrumental]
I don’t miss — I just split you.
I don’t flinch — I just hit you.
One more shot — that’s the ritual.
One more corpse — habitual.

[Outro, Hook repeated to fade]
I don’t miss — I just split you.
I don’t flinch — I just hit you.
One more shot — that’s the ritual.
One more corpse — habitual.


Scarecrow

LYRICS]

batZie. Counter-Strike rapper.
Serial one tapper.
Source code cracker.

If you come at me —
Better come blessed,
I’m the B boogeyman,
Put your prayers to the test.
I’m A’s Baba Yaga,
Better fear my steps.
Falling back?
That’s dead — no answer.
Advancing on site,
Hope my flick just glance ya.
I shred anatomy,
Splitting you atomically,
I scoop your cells out —
Like Richard Lewis scoops sellouts — methodically.
On the trail,
entails trailing through entrails, 
like I'm all up in your emails—
Found out about your she-males!
You in peril — yellow,
Fear my Kung Fu,
My strats so cryptic —
Reprehensible,
incomprehensible too.
Your mind can’t wrap my moves,
Beheading you 
like you a fake Fu Manchu
A chinking in your armour,
The glitch you can’t remove.
You can’t quantify,
My A V P clarity.
Quarter you quick,
Quantum flicks my disparity.
Quashed and queasy,
Quivering, querulous,
Spectating infinity —
C’est fini — perilous.

Empty one, empty two,
MP3 catch your cries.
MP4 of your death —
Watch that skin fry.
Empty one, empty two,
MP3 uploaded online.
HD MP4 —
It’s MP5 time!

Snuff reel for Cache
You're in all shots, 
Pistol splash in the lot. 
Piss poor performance, 
Piss-take on the block,
I spray my piece—
You flush when it's cocked.
Short— you scouting,
You heading out,
Peeking you thinking 
no-one's about.
Suddenly I pop you—
Perfect jump scout,
Just one shot is plenty,
To take your head out.

Empty one, empty two,
MP3 catch your cries.
MP4 of your death —
Watch that skin fry.
Empty one, empty two,
MP3 uploaded online.
HD MP4 —
It’s MP5 time!

It's industry to me,
Industrially eradicating y'all lyrically.
I go about it mechanically,
Manically,
mangling entirety.
I don't murder you irate,
I'm doing this shit flow state.
These sessions are free skate,
You take it all and run, mutt, 
Just like the Tony Hawk Two slut!

Empty one, empty two,
MP3 catch your cries.
MP4 of your death —
Watch that skin fry.
Empty one, empty two,
MP3 uploaded online.
HD MP4 —
It’s MP5 time!

I wouldn't piss on you if you were on fire, motherfucker!

mong

mong v2

batZie — MECHANICAL MAN

Sample: “Mechanical Man” — Command & Conquer OST
Horrorcore rap. Counter-Strike death match sermon. Flesh is obsolete — click clack, headcleaner.

Lyrics:

[Intro]  
Boot sequence — clack, clack — load the plan  
Counter-Strike server — I’m the mechanical man  
[adlib: *“Power up — bleed out.”*]

[Hook]  
Empty clip — faceless — headcleaner  
Mechanical man — rusher to screamer  
Flashbang blind ‘em — blood drip deeper  
Deagle to your dreams — soul grim reaper

[Verse 1]  
Clockwork kill switch — iron lungs, no jam,  
Heartbeat digitized — code, not man,  
Wired for headshots — recoil in my palm,  
Metal ghost lurkin’ deep — calm in your bomb.  

Spine snap syntax — gear teeth grind,  
Heartbeat flatline — crosshair mind,  
Molotov scripture — flame baptize,  
No flesh left — just steel in my eyes.  

Blueprints in my crosshair — flick tap precise,  
Clan vanish in the dust — no rollin’ dice,  
I’m that glitch in your netcode — hacker in command,  
Oil veins, iron tongue — mechanical man.

[Hook]  
Empty clip — faceless — headcleaner  
Mechanical man — rusher to screamer  
Flashbang blind ‘em — blood drip deeper  
Deagle to your dreams — soul grim reaper

[Verse 2]  
Cyborg spawn camp — wires hum static,  
Binary venom — full metal fanatic,  
I’m a warehouse of headshots — clip for a plan,  
Mechanical man — ghost click, no jam.  

No bleedout — I upload pain direct,  
USB slaughter — brains disconnect,  
Skull split schematic — hollow tip choir,  
Heartbeat frozen — killfeed wire.

[Fast Segment — Rapid Fire]  
Rapid fire pattern snap — metal rap scatter pack,  
Brain matter splatter back — battle map chatter crack,  
I’m a mechanical man — iron plan overlap,  
Hydraulic spine snap — P90 tap tap tap.  
Click clack, cortex shift — hollow tips drift,  
Optic twist, toxic clip — no miss, I’m swift,  
Heartbeat glitch — twitch twitch — your last wish,  
batZie spit this vicious — server’s blacklisted.  
(Hit ‘em!) Iron lung hissing — your squad’s all missing,  
Body bags zipping — my bots keep clicking,  
Command & Conquer sample loop — kill switch fixin’,  
Mechanical man — your last breath glitchin’.

[Bridge]  
[adlib: *“Rush me? Metal don’t rust.”*]  
Rush B? Gears spin — grenades rain heavy,  
Headshot factory — iron sights steady,  
CS slaughterhouse — kill mandatory,  
You reload soft — I reload predatory.

[Hook]  
Empty clip — faceless — headcleaner  
Mechanical man — rusher to screamer  
Flashbang blind ‘em — blood drip deeper  
Deagle to your dreams — soul grim reaper

[Verse 3]  
AWP scope click — breath choke flick,  
Heartbeat static — head crack slick,  
Factory slaughter — no flesh kin,  
Mechanical man — kill mode spin.  

Data drip trophy — skulls line my rack,  
Spinal cord harvest — code in my track,  
Heartbeat override — cortex command,  
Shutdown sequence — mechanical man.

[Outro]  
Power down — graveyard spam,  
Counter-Strike casket — iron exam,  
Click clack, final flash — no respawn plan,  
GG fade to black — batZie, mechanical man.

[adlib: *“System off — disconnect.”*]


Mechanical Man

batZie — MECHANICAL MAN [CnC mix]

Horrorcore rap — Counter-Strike sermon — Mechanical Man samples the legendary Command & Conquer OST and rewires it for a kill spree. Flesh is obsolete. Headcleaner sermon for your deathmatch playlist.


➡️ Written & performed by batZie
➡️ Concept: Horrorcore / Death Rap / CS2 killcam nightmare
➡️ Inspired by Mechanical Man — Command & Conquer OST

#batZie #MechanicalMan #Horrorcore #DeathRap #CommandAndConquer #CounterStrike #UndergroundHipHop


Mechanical Man [CnC mix]

Listen to The Devil's Blueprint by batZie. East Coast boom bap rap. Like, comment, and share if you feel it.

[Verse 1] 
If I’m the Devil in this century, I’m subtle with the method —  
no horns, just a glow from a screen that stay embedded  
in palms and pockets — truth get auctioned, cheap and infected,  
nobody trust the word, so the lie gets protected.  

You want pleasure? I flood the veins — push it legal or not,  
got ‘em scrolling like zombies, dopamine on the clock,  
binge it all ‘til the soul’s soft, numb to the rot —  
they don’t feel the chain tighten when they swallow the lock.  

I sell virtue on Sundays, watch the pastor invest  
in gold crosses and private jets — confess and regress.  
When prophets preach profit margins, the flock drift directionless —  
holy water can’t wash what’s corrupt in the flesh.  

[Hook]  
Ain’t gotta swing a blade — just whisper to yourself,  
turn a neighbor to an enemy, trade your heaven for wealth.  
When the doubt come creepin’ silent, when your faith get shelved,  
I don’t burn down the world — I just hand you the match.  

[Verse 2]  
I stir tribal lines like broth — stir ‘til the broth boils over,  
families split for the politics, old friends turn soldiers  
for some algorithm war — rage get sold like soda,  
the fizz sweet, keep ‘em thirsty for a traitor’s quota.  

You binge collapse on your timeline, apocalypse in your pocket,  
got end times in your shopping cart — one-click, then you drop it.  
Hope shrink-wrapped with despair — I sell it all for the profit,  
I don’t knock — I slide in quiet when your faith can’t stop it.  

Turn people to brands, watch ‘em auction their worth —  
likes for rent money, clout for a curse.  
Your face become a product, your trauma rehearsed,  
and when the mirror crack — you blame the other one first.  

[Verse 3]  
I speed up the clock ‘til you don’t breathe in between,  
headlines bleed out daily — truth buried in memes.  
Feed ‘em panic in doses, keep ‘em buying new dreams,  
then I watch ‘em self-destruct — clean hands, no screams.  

I’m in the echo when you scroll at three in the night,  
I’m the static in your thoughts when the signal ain’t right,  
I’m the devil you invited when you gave up the fight,  
I’m the shadow in the back when you kill off your light.  

So let ‘em build me a kingdom with each tap, each post,  
divide ‘em ‘til they ghost each other, toast to the host.  
I’m the architect of ruin — they the bricks, I’m the boast,  
ain’t no hell beneath your feet — it’s that glow you hold close.  

[Bridge]  
Mmm… voices in the static, calling out your name,  
shadows in the silence, whisperin’ the blame.  
Mmm… truth is like a candle, flickers in the rain —  
trade your light for comfort, you gon’ feed the flame.

[Hook]  
Ain’t gotta swing a blade — just whisper to yourself,  
turn a neighbor to an enemy, trade your heaven for wealth.  
When the doubt come creepin’ silent, when your faith get shelved,  
I don’t burn down the world — you do it yourself.

The Devil's Blueprint

A CS2 death rap by batZie — one man, one mission: eliminate the hacker.
Arnie energy. Predator vibes. Pure carnage.

The Hunt

Millennium of Murder

Backdoor Bandit

SAMPLE: "Water World" · From Duke Nukem 3D (GT Interactive, 1996, DOS) · Music by Bobby Prince, Lee Jackson

ΔuŦøgץnəPḩiĿiαK

Suffer Not

FIedermäuse Kommando. batZie | The Two-Time (Banned) Champion. Raging beard. ADHD aim. Deadbeat father of three. CS2 war criminal. Founder of the Champions Pub (kids get in free*). Likes bats, dark jokes, and 5v1 clutches. Hates smurfs. Got banned before it was cool.

𝕱𝖑𝖊𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖒𝖆𝖚𝖘𝖊 𝕶𝖔𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖔

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