The Temple Is Light In The Head, Not Stone On A Hill

Nevermind

Same Path, Same Curse is a lyrical warning carved in stone and soul.
This rap confronts the generational cycle of pride, violence, and blindness — the loop we walk when we refuse to learn from the past. It's a call to break the curse, to stop walking roads paved by the downfall of our ancestors and start seeking the golden crown instead of falling with the iron and clay feet.

Old wounds in new shoes still bleed.
But the ones with vision… rewrite the map.

Same Path, Same Curse

A slick, soul-soaked spin on the iconic classic.
Billie Jean (Step Lightly turns the moonwalk into a metaphor for deception—how some love moves like truth but disappears on impact. This version brings funky house rhythm to a cautionary tale of glitz, charm, and ghosts in heels. Smooth, sharp, unforgettable.

Billie Jean (Step Lightly)

Straight from Daniel 4, this is the tale of a king who fell from glory into madness — not for punishment, but for purification. It’s a warning to every throne and system that forgets the Most High. Pride builds empires. But humility builds truth.

Daniel 4, The Madness of Kings

Time Is Money

The 10 Soul Commandments are in a slow, smooth, spiritual mix and soulfully precise. Each commandment flips worldly thinking into divine truth.
Not from a pulpit — from the heart. This track teaches you how to walk true in a world of lies, without losing your essence.

10 Soul Commandments-Slow Jam Mix

[Intro]
Yeah, Lone Star on my chest, but the globe keeps the lights on—ride with me.

[Verse 1]
Boots hit the floor, coffee steam—Guatemala in the cup, Texas dreams. Zipper says YKK from Osaka steel, railmen in Gujarat load up the deal. Toast = Kansas wheat, Bahrain salt, freight so strong my F-250 hauls. Cobalt for my phone from Congo mines, lithium pulled where the Andes shine. Patriot stance but I tip my brim to the labor overseas that keeps life primed; every tick on the clock got a passport stamp, global hustle pumps my Fort Worth amp.

[Hook]
Every mile a gift—hands across the map, liberty we lift—can’t nobody cap that; docks to the crops to the code in the cloud, salute your grind, lone and loud.

[Verse 2]
Noon heat, H-Town streets, groceries chilled by a reefer fleet; Jersey barcode ballet beeps, Provence lavender scents my sheets. Rotterdam clerks trace nautical lines, Santos stevedores stack iron spines; I pledge allegiance to the grind and the flag, because freedom rides on the shoulders of the working class.

[Bridge – call & response]
Halifax lobster crews
WE SEE YA, THANKS!
Dhaka denim blues
WE SEE YA, THANKS!
Night-shift code over Dublin skies, fruit-stand poets where Oaxaca lies. Pantry passport shows your names; Lone Star love in global frames.

[Final Hook]
Every mile a gift—Texas keep it lit, may our porch-light beam repay a bit—worldwide hustle, red-white-blue, gratitude screwed and chopped right through.

### License
This track (both music and lyrics) is licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International (CC BY 4.0).

🆓 You are free to:
• Copy & distribute  
• Remix & adapt  
• Use the track in commercial and non-commercial projects  

📋 Conditions of use:
1. Give proper credit:  
 “Global Hustle – Emergence – https://soundcloud.com/emergence-223803727/global-hustle – CC BY 4.0”
2. Add a link to the license text: https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/
3. State whether you made any changes.  
4. Do not imply that I endorse your work.

Enjoy!

Global Hustle  [free download]

This song is born from the regret I carry for not being there when my mother died. I wasn’t strong enough to face it, and that truth still tears at me. It feels like the man I was then wasn’t truly me—just a shell watching life from the side lines. I wrote this to give voice to the pain, to honour the love I never fully showed, and to capture that memory before it fades into dust. This is my way of saying what I couldn’t back then.

My Regret - That Wasn’t Me

I love my fathers people and nation, and i hope one day the true image of the 4th beast be revealed as the image of God the red and ruddy people of Israel Babylon

Track 9 - Africa Reborn

This set was recorded live at Lyssbachmärit 2025 in Lyss (switzerland), where I had the pleasure to play for the Solidarity Agency.

Three hours of Peak Time Techno - energetic, driving, and straightforward, blending current tracks with some of my personal favorites.

A big thank you to everyone who joined and created such an amazing atmosphere.
Here’s the full recording to relive the moment.

#Techno #PeakTimeTechno #LiveSet #SolidarityAgency #Lyssbachmärit #Kadric

KADRIC @ Lyssbachmärit 2025 for Solidarity Agency

This song tells the truth of the temple, not carved from stone, not raised in deserts or cities, but living in the human head. The skull is the ark, the brain its cherubim wings, the fire of the seraphim burning north and south. The soul is Israel, the covenant written not on tablets but in marrow and thought.

Once you remember this, the illusion of a far-off Judgment Day disappears. For why would your inner G, the living light within, judge you according to the will of outer lords? The Word is not flesh but real light, made manifest in the body refined as gold. In this temple of consciousness, judgment becomes awakening, and salvation is the soul standing alive in its own kingdom.

Tabernacle in My Head

This track is a rebuke to anyone who dares to steal the soul’s blessing. The temple is not theirs to claim, it is not built of stone, not written in false scriptures or guarded by outer lords. The blessing of the soul lives in the living temple of the head, where the Word is light and the body becomes gold.

Those who try to counterfeit it, who preach false Judgement Days or demand worship for their thrones, are only robbing themselves. The true Israel is not a nation or crown, but the inner kingdom shining from the pineal flame. This is the song of defiance: the soul cannot be bought, sold, or stolen, it is eternal, and its blessing curses any who try to take it.

Blessing Thief

This track mocks the endless cycle of men building stone temples only to watch them crumble into dust. Babylon raised walls that fire consumed. Rome laid foundations that swords shattered. And now, some cry for a third temple, as if mortar and stone could ever house the living God.

But the truth is plain: the temple has never been of stone. It is in the head, the mind’s holy ark, the soul’s golden flame. Every time men lift their altars, history sweeps them down. If Babylon made it ashes, if Rome made it dust, who will strike the next? The hand of God, not in wrath, but in revelation, showing that no empire’s shrine can contain the eternal.

The true temple is light in the marrow, word in the breath, and soul as Israel. This track laughs at the vanity of stone and proclaims the kingdom as a fire no wall can hold.

Dust of Temples

This track speaks as the temple itself, walking proud, clothed in gold, laughing at the lords of dust who think they hold the soul. It’s cocky, defiant, and unshaken. The temple knows its truth: the soul is God’s, not for priests, kings, or false judges to claim.

The voice says: “If I should die before I wake, leave my soul, it’s not yours to take.” This isn’t arrogance, but certainty. Stone shrines collapse, crowns rust, empires fade, but the temple of light within cannot be touched. The cherubim guard, the seraphim blaze, and the soul shines eternal.

Here the mocking tone is sharp: men build walls that always fall, but the living temple walks on, laughing at their folly. The cocky temple declares itself sovereign, eternal, and free, a witness that the soul belongs only to God.

Cocky Temple

This track throws down the challenge to the false temple, the temple of sin, born from envy and mimicry. The twelve tribes tried to walk like the true, yet while empires rose in gold, their hands only begged. They could not rebuild until 1948, and even then it was not life but decree, not God’s flame, only the voice of lords.

The song mocks the vanity of “Temple Three,” just another monument to dust. Rome destroyed, Babylon burned, and now the cycle repeats. For no stone wall can carry the soul’s fire, no decree can speak for the God of the free.

The true temple was never theirs to claim. It is the civilisation of light, the body refined as gold, the soul eternal. The tribes may envy, but the flame cannot be stolen, it belongs only to God and burns in the living temple of those who walk in truth.

Temple of Sin

Welcome to G-01 Productions — where rhythm meets reflection and lyrics carry light.

I create original songs and rap poetry about real life, spiritual truth, inner battles, and the divine spark we all carry. My beats are made using AI-generated production, which saves money and lets me create at a much faster pace — no waiting on a producer, just pure, raw expression.

This channel is about more than music — it’s a journey. A way to turn pain into poetry, wisdom into wordplay, and chaos into clarity. From UK drill to soulful R&B, I use sound to tell stories that wake the soul, call out the system, and celebrate the unseen.

🎤 Genres: Hip-Hop, Drill, R&B, Soul, Spoken Word
🎶 All lyrics written by me | All beats created with AI
🧠 Themes: Awakening, Zion, Elohim, Truth vs. Illusion
📍 Global sound – From Birmingham to Lagos to New York

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Truth is rising… and this is the sound of its return.
— G-01

Tabernacle in My Head

G-01 AI productions, AI Singers and Beats

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