Lyrics:
(Based on a true story)
(Check) 
Verse 1:
It's a nice sunny day as three babies open their eyes.
But all Billy and his siblings see are broken, hurt lives. 
His mom has infectious nipples and swollen bruised thighs.
That grim day, two family members are stolen from life.
Times get darker, but the two left are hoping for light.
Until they're separated, no more holding on tight.
Billy watches in horror as she's pumped full of substances.
She's fed generously so she doesn't bitch.
PreChorus 1:
She's caged with no space to run or shit.
She soon learns what the curse of abundance is.
With her overweight body, her legs buckle quick.
Before her first birthday, she's done a bucket kick.
Chorus 1:
Do you cook your meet well done so you won't have to taste the blood.
The violence still happens even if you insist on it being behind closed doors. 
Did you know you can buy focalized ivory or a fake rug? 
If you wouldn't wanna be tortured, support that of them no more.
Verse 2: 
A little while later, he'll wish he'd suffered her fate.
Her endless torturing was just a foretaste.
First he's marked with a number, then cussed at like a name. 
His overseers think he's pain is some sort of game.
He's crowded and hot cuz they have too many mouths to feed. Instead of a normal fifteen years, Billy lived around three. 
He's hung upside down with slit throat and bound feet.
As his blood drains out, we all call him ground beef.
Maybe if you forgot his story, you could get a sound sleep.
Maybe you can't find your humanity, well mine found me.
Go ahead and indulge in your GMO, cow pee. 
I don't give a fuck what the whole town thinks.
PreChorus 2: 
"Ray, only one cow is killed for twelve hundred burgers."
In your lifetime you'd eat eleven thousand, speak no further.
That makes ten more cows who weren't brutally murdered.
Can I offer a job to the old meat department worker?
Chorus 2:
Do you cook your meet well done so you won't have to taste the blood.
The violence still happens even if you insist on it being behind closed doors. 
Did you know you can buy focalized ivory or a fake rug? 
If you wouldn't wanna be tortured, support that of them no more.
If a vegan is a pussy, I'd like to see you give a snake hug.
It's no secret that buying processed meat causes problems galore.
Bridge: 
That chicken period you like to call (an egg).
Isn't from a comfortable coop on farm (Sanchez).
These hens are packed tighter than the candy (brand Pez).
I'm not asking you to believe what one (man says).
With two minutes of research, find out for yourself.
There're thousands of animals, each day, crying for your help.
Or are you too selfish and only care about your health? 
Then in Karma's dealing, you'll be the first dealt. 
The only reason our species is at the top of the food chain,
Is spoken language and the ability to change.
If extra terrestrials invaded earth, you'd hang.
Would you ask for mercy, or say "good game"?
(Chorus 2)

Life

Lyrics:
(Think before you have company)
(This really happened; I ain't fronting)
Let me introduce you to a girl named Sunny.
Her future was bright; she'd make lotsa money.
Always content while others her age were wanting.
A great sense of humor but her story's not funny.

When her fifteenth birthday comes along, she's not about
To have a big party; just a couple friends on the couch.
But shit hits the fan when they want something to talk about. 
They keep on drinking until the beer and vodka's out. 

She's already had enough but her best friend's brought more.
Her black hoodie seems sexy, to him, after too many shots poured.
She's a virgin but he refers to her as a "hot whore".
He asks her to come to the bedroom but she's not sure.

With deviously timed shots and circumstance,
Intoxicants convince her to shed her purple vans.
To bring her guard down more, he works his hands.
He's making progress, next to go are get shirt and pants.

The liquor blurs her vision along with her judgement.
His lucky day ends with her being luckless.
He knows what he's doing but she cannot function.
She's filled with his dick insteada the substance.
Chorus: 
For her birthday she's given away
Now every year she'll remember her pain.
To get satisfaction, this isn't the way.
Instead of taking advantage, defend her from rape.

As if her situation's not hard enough in the first place,
The ultrasound reveals, inside her, a blurred face.
The doctor says if she lives, it'll be pure grace.
The life is developing at an obscure pace.

Dr Henderson runs some tests and steps into the back room.
When he returns he begrudgingly says, "I have bad news".
Forlorn overtakes everyone as he states, "she'll pass soon".
(This is the part where Ableton plays a sad tune.)
[Heart monitor flatline]
(Chorus)
"She waa asking for it. I find you..." [Gavel knocking] "Not guilty."

Sunny isn't the only girl sexuality assaulted.
I wish I could say we were working to halt it.
No shark attack, just men attacks, you called it.
Now tell me why it's the females who are faulted?

You say, if she don't want rape, she shouldn't be drinking.
Maybe you shouldn't own shit to prevent robbery, I'm thinking.
I hope your stank ass always stays single so there'll be no cheating.
Oh wait, you're alive, you must be saying "murder me please"!

If this reopens old wounds, know someone out there cares.
Instead of mourning her story, I'd like them to share theirs.
This is a summons for all those women who compare scares.
Men need to carry a warning sign with the message "beware bear".
(Chorus)

Given Away

Standards by My Depiction on the album Whatever You're Going Through (Special Edition)
Lyrics:
You could have a sweet girl but don't cuz she's not fashion-esque.
(Kick the dick with your high heals)
You turn down the next girl cuz she's trying to get skinny but hasn't yet.
The third girl's waist size is ideal but she's not passin' tests.
The fight against numbers is quite real)
You're looking for a naturally thin girl with eyebrows waxed, big breasts;
Not too butch or bitchy, all the shit that you as a man ingest.
(For someone, squishy's just the right feel)
You live in an imaginary world if you think she can be making sandwiches
In the kitchen, and at the same time in the office, cashin' checks.
You can't see girl's injured self-esteem below all the bandages.
Chorus:
Girl's don't be held down by society's standards.
Next time he tries to say a little makeup can't hurt,
Tell him your beauty isn't determined by his slander.
He uses words like kitten for a fucking panther!

If you have a seatbelt, ya better fasten it.
I'm about to break it down in one mad sentence.
If your petty asses weren't insecure about your smile, we'd have one sad dentist.
Don't try to be ethical among savages.
You women can be what the man isn't.
The banks want you to feel like the upper class and buy a house when you can't rent it.
(Chorus)
Out of all the tools known to man, the mouth works the hardest and goes the farthest.
Can simply speak words of kindness and cherubim and seraphim are harkened.
But the wrong words are like knives, and with vocabulary, they're sharpened.
On an earth black with hate, why add even more darkness?
When a single candle can light a thousand more without being darkened?
Discouragement is as useful as a game console without a cartridge.
Who wants a sea full of pretty fish, when there's a resilient starfish?
There're people who spend fifty bucks on a can that holds garbage.
A thousand flashy cylinders with high price tags (adorned).
Everybody wants the one the other guy has (much more).
Nobody thinks to open it and see, inside, trash (galore).
The outside may be pleasing, but what's beneath, your eyes can't (endure).
(Chorus)
Original song by My Depiction. All rights reserved.

Standards

Vegans (TØP Parody) Performed by Ray of My Depiction and RB in the Background
Lyrics: 
Chorus:
I'll turn my friends to vegans, turn them slow.
Can't wait for them to ask me what I know. 
Beef don't make any sudden moves. 
You don't know the half of the abuse.
Turn my friends to vegans, turn them slow.
Can't wait for them to ask me what I know. 
Turkeys don't make any sudden moves. 
You don't know the half of the abuse.

Welcome to the room of beef fritters or is it the room or corpes that have felt the pain?
Locked away.
Just because they're killed behind closed doors doesn't mean the bills will pay for meat, humane. 
You don't know the psychopath drinking blood with spoons.
Just as guilty as the murderer leaving open tombs.
You think who's the murderer standing in your shoes.
After all I've said, please don't forget...

(Chorus)

We don't deal with burned flesh scent very well.
They say cucumbers have a certain smell.
They've crushed millions of mail chickens.
Food boxes don't tell of intentions. 
You'll never know the freakshow drinking cum like juice.
They should name it Red Skeet Bull and tell the whole truth.
The keep it on the down low from people like me and you.
Way o'er our heads. Well now it's said:

(Chorus)

Now all my friends are vegans, I've turned them slow.
Didn't wait for them to ask me what I know. (2x)

You can't cut meat cold turkey is what you say. 
It tastes too good to stop in just one day. 
They're packed tighter inside than kids on a bus.
One day is harder for them then one without for us.

The music is not my own work but that of Tyler Joseph and Josh Dunn in their original song "Heathens" off the Suicide Squad Soundtrack.

Vegans (TØP Parody)

3rd World by My Depiction
Lyrics:
Look around, entire nations engaging in sodomy.
Not a damn soul will admit that there's some fault in me.
We're still hung up on some bullshit ancient prophacy.
When we can't pick up the hone on real problems like inequality. 
The blood spilled over hate's enough to paint the town mahagony.
We have less reasons to riot but the pickets are skyrocketing.
One one side of the earth, they're living in utter poverty;
Working cheap labor to fill our overflowing box of rings.
We have the nerve to btch cuz the grass is not as green.
Wake up 'Murica, there are bigger worries than the tallest tree.
Bribe me not to worry when there's no money laundering.
Witches aren't the only one's doinng the conjouring.
Chorus:
Third world countries, that's our problem.
Third sports car is unneccessary, honest.
Third world war doesn't have you offset.
I'd spell it ou but you failed third grade phonics.

About the much relied upon technology,
How to build we know not a thing.
Social media, the docile seed, stop it please.
The only button's to follow and not to lead.
Encouraging the solvency of following.
Nerd's labeling as phone zombies that's hypocracy.
TV's addictive psycology is monotany.
Each news company's owned by one family's monopoly.
That's why they're esteeming Hillary, not honoring Socrates.
Heart's are hardening and morals are softening.
Cuz backstabbers give apologies uncommonly.
No one bats an eye at their neighbour's hostile thief.
But wants help for their yard pottery robbery.
Outta them, him, yourself, you'd always chose option three.
You can't hear their cries cuz you're hollering "don't bother me".
There're millions of souls left wandering.
(Chorus)
It takes two words to say what one finger does inaudibly.
Don't give second chances to a fallen nation that's struck out three times and still toppling.
Don't waste one minute behind four walls, is my policy.
One storm can, have a double rainbow and still get an armada of ships lost at sea.
(3x)
(Chorus)
Original song by My Depiction. All rights reserved.

3rd World

Victomless Crimes by My Depiction on the album Whatever You're Going Through special edition
Lyrics:
Chorus:
This song ain't about getting high man
It's about rising above the tyrant
Ride this beat to the skies man
You'll feel as heightened as I am
Mizanskey rots for victimless crimes damn
No hate, just glaze when you look into his eyes man
He's locked below so the rich'll stay high man
Rapists freed to make room for nickel and dimebag Derrel

Verse:
Wars aren't waged on faceless inanimate objects
(No war on drugs)
No matter what the fuck the feds wanna call it
(The war's on us)
The ones against the fences aren't the alcoholics
(Put your hands up)
The pursuers for users incriminate the faultless
(And not the drunks) 
We're too busy getting stoned over at Rockfest
(Dude, pass the blunt)
To look out about pick-pocketed wallets
(What the drunk does)
Drunks see red and dread; we see paint by Pollock 
(Come fly with us)
No pot physical mineral is addictive or toxic
(But their lie was)
Till I exposed it 

(Chorus)
Bridge: 
If marijuana is less harmful than tobacco products, why then is it illegal, you ask?
Cuz the big pharma and aristocrats are washing their hands instead of wiping their poopy ass.
This world gives us a test to see who's the best liar and the test is administered by those who pass.
While hemp is outlawed, their coveted oil market won't give too much competition to the collared, blue class.
On voting day, while you sit at home blowing smoke, Johnny's losing to cancer and you blew his chance.
Huffpost reports this year 88 thousand people died to booze and life number 30k was lost to a crash.
The 1.2mil saved by the green can't be larger because the thought of getting blazed, look past, you can't. 
I made my research paper fully autobiographic with my works cited by procon and rapped to a tune fast.
(Chorus)
Outro:
Smoke the emotional pain away
Smoke the physical pain away (inhale exhale)
Original Song by My Depiction. All Rights Reserved

Victomless Crimes

A Song About Anxiety by My Depiction feat. Katelyn.
Lyrics: 
Inside, my cranium's cluttered with words. But its platform, my tongue, fumbles and turns. 
My silence means not my assumptions are dirt. 
What if my speaking makes yours suddenly worse? 

An uneasy feeling overtakes me
As you look up and then you turn to face me. 
Can't let it go like bloom girl by Banksy.
Your smile from across the room brings safety. 

PreChorus:
No, I don't wanna talk about it when talking can't cure the blues.
No, I don't feel better knowing you have to go through it too.

Chorus:
You weigh my worries down with the same pillows that I cocoon in.
You hide me from interactions in the safe corner of the room, friend.
Eye contact makes me anxious, anxious but your eyes they are so soothin'.
I trip your hand so tightly, tightly the clutch of fear begins to loosen.

I fear you'll see my hands dripping in sweat.
To you, shaking hands is simply pleasant.
From your pleasant cup, I'm sipping just stress. 
I found the confidence for crippling regret.
Behind me, are distant laughter sounds, gee. 
In my head, it's like loud scoffs surround me.
I'm intimidated, my heart is pounding,
By the thought that it might be about me.
Don't disappear after umpteen low days. 
Are you used to me not being okay?
Too used to my struggle to help me cope mayne?
I rely on sleep like you need cocaine. 

(PreChorus)
(Chorus)

Does anyone ever ramble in their head? I do.

Holy shit, she's talking to me. 
How will I know just what to say? 
I can't believe she's talking to me;
She's asking me about my day
(How's your day?)
But I know she'll think differently if I told her how I'm really feeling. 
The walls are closing in on me and it's almost like I can feel the ceiling. 
I could dodge the question or give an answer that is so vague.
My thoughts are unleashed but my skittish mouth just says that I'm okay.
(Um... I'm okay.)
I try to float but I'm immersed.
Her invasive retinas throw me off. 
I know she's second guessing my words.
Somehow she can read my thoughts. 
Was it the hesitation that's in my response that gave me away?
Or is it that the phrase is top stereotypically mundane?
I can't wait 'til I can go.
I'll feel safe inside my home.
No more fear when I'm alone,
Where I can get as high as hopes. 
The hope that one day this'll go
Away like I'm invisible. 
It IS real if it's not physical.
My hood'll keep it hidden though. 
Damn, is she still talking to me?

I want you to know, you're not the only one who feels this way. This anxiety that you feel is a real thing. Your emotions are valid. Even if you've done it a thousand times, you can still go to work, or school. I'm proud of you. Keep going. I believe in you.

Original song by My Depiction. All rights reserved.

A Song About Anxiety

Keep the Earth Clean by My Depiction feat. RB in the Background. Single release collaboration with 3 piece band RB in the Background. Members: RB, Brewski, & Ry (myself).
Lyrics:
Verse 1:
They wear a suit and tie that appears to be luxurious and decedent.
Try to keep it swept under the rug but, in the room, there stands an elephant.
"It's just a couple" and "it doesn't matter" excuses are prevalent.
They do this everyday and after a year the damage is evident.

But we should treat the ground beneath us like we're residents.
Instead our oceans are graveyards for oil drenched pelicans.
And rubbish adorns the stomach's of flocks of seagull skeletons.
Do the miles of litter where the tides meet not make you hesitant...

Chorus:
There's a trash can right over there!
It won't stop till ya get off your sofa chair
Pick up one candy wrapper and show ya care
There's a trash can right over there!

Verse 2:
...To drop a few bottles? We've all contributed without penitence.
A few multiplied by the world's population is infinite.
We've only got one mother earth and our relationship should be intimate.
But all we do to save her life is share pictures on the internet.

(Chorus)

Bridge:
You ask me how to keep the earth clean? 
I say by not taking it for granted!
It all shoulda stopped at the first piece 
This land is all we've got; it's not outlandish
To just stop littering
Keep the earth clean (2x)

Verse 3:
The most dangerous animal on the planet is not the shark, but the human
Look at the turtle's shell deformed from the six pack rings he grew in
So don't be silent cuz the a**hole who's littering is a good friend
Kindly remind him that the boy scouts say "leave nothing but footprints" 

Air looking cream of mushroom soupy, water polluted with cans of Campbell's
If you're gonna go fishing, please clean up your bate and tackle
We must choose the lesser of two evils in this outrageous scandal
We can either add to nature's destruction or add to the landfill

Our actions can cause a f***ing genocide if our looks can kill
Dolphins aren't free to move from the actions of a free man's will
The deprivation wreaked on mother earth weighs on my heart like an anvil
I hope recycling comes from this song like relief from an Advil

Outro:
Can the rapper pick up candy rappers?
Will our children play in our disaster? (2x)

Original song by My Depiction. All Rights Reserved.

Keep The Earth Clean

Trigger Warning Pt 1
Verse 1:
Please heed my warning and press skip on this song if it could be triggerin'. 
If not, I'll take you back to my childhood where I was angsty and belligerent.
I felt like, from all the other kids, my brain cells had a different type of configurin'.
I believed in a god, but it was a god whom my issues were bigger than.

My talk of moving out, to my father's ears, was just harmonious dissonance.
Supposedly the stereotypical head-of-household lifestyle was as easy as it'll get.
I attempted to live up to his merciless expectations with utmost diligence.
My tendencies started to become depressive 'til that sadness became vigilant. 

I-i was picked on cuz my overthinking mind caused my speech to have astigmatism. 
Eventually I began to think I deserved it and just accepted all the criticism.
I was told cutting wouldn't help but neither would anything else, so I didn't listen.
As relief streamed down, I'd pop in forbidden earbuds and bob my head with the rhythm...

Chorus:
I'd tell myself "don't pay attention to the trigger warnings"
Even when I feel like a certain song was written for me.
Keep what's in the past in the fucking past little homie.
Remember not to pay attention to the trigger warnings.

Verse 2:
Hi, my name is Raymond and I'm a member of the Recovering Cut-Aholic Cult.
I swear I wasn't hurting anybody but myself yet I was treated like I was diabolical.
Puncturing skin let me release endorphins that if left bottled up would become volatile.
I'd wear a plethora of bracelets so they wouldn't call my coping mechanism comical.

The rush was temporary with an aftermath like following black rainbows to no pot o' gold
One day I heard a song that made my hairs stand to the point I felt it down to the follicles. 
Maybe this music was to my mental illness as vaccines were to the common cold.
If addictions must be replaced with other addictions, at least my body found this one potable.

(Chorus) 

Bridge :
When they awarded the other kids with "good job", I got a dunce cap, and sticker: "boring".
I could only write one-liners and was discouraged; "maybe being a wordsmith isn't for me."
I'd go to bed haunted by each day's mistakes; meanwhile my accomplishments, ignoring. 
Thus every day was like waking up on the wrong side of the bed with dull, bitter mornings.

You may have heard "when it rains it pours", but the second I feel a drip, it's pouring.
You might feel like a rain cloud hangs over your head, but for me, that shit was storming.
I was told my problems would stop if I moved out, but I found that a bit misinforming.
My whole life seemed so trauma educing I could write this on my forehead: trigger warning.

(Chrous[2x])

Original Song by My Depiction. All Rights Reserved.

Trigger Warning Pt 1

Trigger Warning by My Depiction
Lyrics:
Verse 1:
When the blood dries, I'm overwhelmed by the feeling you get when the call you've missed is urgent.
I was told I needed Jesus to wash away my sins like he was some sorta dish detergent.
But the lack of completeness with or without him is making me, either way, a bit uncertain.
I'm better than this. If it's just a mindset, maybe I don't have to be a misery-stricken person.

Chorus:
Don't pay attention to the trigger warnings [repeat] 
*whispers overlapping*

Verse 2:
I can't be bipolar with no check, though my temper's mentality is still quite temperamental. 
Slowly, my inner battle against the dark side of me made remnants of the pain-sender dwindle.
Now I close my eyes and let my emotions flow through my fingertips and out of my pen or pencil.
Nearly ten years later, I tattooed my wrist to cover my scars like makeup would censor pimples.

(Chorus) 

In my mom's eyes, I'd seen the anguish she experienced with my flesh being slashed and gory.
It was hard - as hard as if I was tied to this retched habit like we're sworn in holy matrimony.
Harder to detach that part of my body, than it was to cut it anywhere, but I knew it's mandatory. 
Was drugs, love or music better to be addicted to than this; or was there another category?

I knew I had to put my foot down, when my skin looked like I was in the first stage of rigor mortis.
But I needed a foundation to support that foot, that was as solid as if it was made from brick and mortar.
Would it make me reliant if I let someone be my sanity like like the connection between Rick and Morty?
The urge never goes away, but somehow my willpower keeps saying, "Don't do it again! End of story."

(Chorus [in a capella fading out])

Original Song by My Depiction. All Rights Reserved.

Trigger Warning Pt 2

Spoken word/hip-hop and neo psychadelia/industiral genre.
Are you depressed? Do you feel alone in this world? I did too. Follow me in my battle against society's warped expectations. You need be no more than who you are. You are a starseed. I hope you'll find comfort in the words of my songs. Please subscribe. We can change the world together.