FORGET

time will tell

Drift

gët busy

@lxnadubz @lxnadubz @lxnadubz @lxnadubz @lxnadubz



<3

DROPTOP W/ LXNA

@sorsari but at home, you could say im so sari; inspired by @sorsari with some @simulation420 mixed in there somewhere

response to @rexurexu and @luhcy as well as a late response to @user-124579228 thank yall sm for sending for meee

sending for @yung-lagoon @prodhollon @frdmbeats @trivii and @esocbababeatz yall have 24 hours to release a response track and tag more people :)

Sorserer (response to rexy and luhcy)

EP COMING OUT MARCH 30TH
STAYTUNED
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Corrupted File One

I SAW YOU IN A DREAM

pov: you are on the club toilet

Take Ten [prod. MERCY$]

The lights flicker over the altar of plates
Sauce red like the oath we never betrayed
Billboards chant softly in the corner of the room
Cranberry blood drips down in the bloom

We gather round the feast as the screens recite
“Buy more, consume more” in the flicker of light
Hands stained crimson while we raise the toast
We worship the brand but we fear the ghost
Rituals set in motion by the ad voice’s call
We kneel before cupboards overflowing the hall
Feast for the many, hunger for the one
Sacrifice hidden under the barrel of fun
The cranberry stain on our fingers and pride
Marks the covenant where the truth died
We’re sacrificial lambs to the economy’s altar
Feeding the void while the watchers won’t falter

Cranberry blood on the hands of the feast
Pubs reciting prayers to the hungry beast
Offerings given at the altar of want
We consume our soul and the servers won’t stop

Cart after cart sliding down the neon aisle
We fill up the temple though we lost the smile
The sauce runs thick like the truth we deny
Screens preach gospel but the souls stay dry
Our shadows grow long in the glow of the fridge
We trade our tomorrow for the packaged privilege
The feast’s never over, the hunger remains
We wear the indulgence but the belt still strains
The cranberry runs cold on the finger of time
We toast to the surplus, drown in the rhyme
The ads whisper softly “you deserve this night”
While our hearts tick empty in the absence of light

Cranberry blood on the hands of the feast
Pubs reciting prayers to the hungry beast
Offerings given at the altar of want
We consume our soul and the servers won’t stop

Chimneys of waste climb where the feast once stood
We cleared the shelves but we drained the blood
The altar’s now empty, the worship continues
We chant the slogans, collect the venues
Sauce on the porcelain, the red still clings
We walk out laden, but inside we’re thin
The prayers of commercials echo in our mind
We offered our hunger and left the bind
Consumption turned sacred, the ritual defined
We feast on the plenty and leave the spine
The screens flicker off but the hunger stays loud
We bow to the billboards, lost in the crowd

Cranberry blood on the hands of the feast
Pubs reciting prayers to the hungry beast
Offerings given at the altar of want
We consume our soul and the servers won’t stop

Sauce drips slowly on the empty plate
The ritual ends but the hunger won’t wait
Cranberry blood, memory of the feast
We walked from the altar but the hunger increased

Cranberry Blood

Ţ̷͚͎͓͔̪̼̞̺̲͉̺̠͎̤̦͕̥̃̀̀́ͅh̸̢̨̖̥͍̬̺̟͉̹̟͍͇͖̦̪͎͈̟̖̜̬̦̺̖̘̥̦͇̠̹̹̿̿͠͠ͅe̷̡̢͓̮̰͉͍̻͍͓̜̠̙̝͈͚͍̪͓̦͓̟̱̘̰̩̠͚̠̼̗̮̦̞̦̬͒̊̈́̂̇̿͂͊͜ͅ ̵̡̡̢̡̡̛̛͙͚̰̦͍͇̰̯̤̩͙͔̹̭̬̖̗̗͙͚̰͙̤̮̻͈̭͇̪͚̙̥̣̯͑̉̌͐̎̽͋͌̓̓̽̈́̀̀͑͑̃̍̋̓̑̓̓͌̌̃͗̓́̔͌̔̀̏̊̒̊̒̉̄͝͝͝͝͝͝ͅͅV̴̨̨̢̩̘͍̜̭̩̖̞̰͖̗̪͔͕̪̮̙̝̦̦̪͓͉̻̲͍̮͓͚̪͇̯̲̟̘̳̟͌̒̀̈̄̄̂̇̂̔̐̀͑̅̉̑͐̅̓͗̊̃͘̕͜ͅo̸̧̝͙͖̭̻͕̲͈̮̩̗͎͈̫̯̫̥̮̹̤͕͚̰̲͖͓͙̺̬͌̋́͗̋̈́̾́͋̿̂̓̐̓̉̇͆̒͊̈́͗͌̒̆̈́̀̈͛͆̾̾̐̽̓͂͊̂͒̚̚͘͜͜͝͠͝͠͝ͅͅį̵̢̛̥̠̞̣̗̮̭̻͔͕̙̗̣̜̖̜̹͈̣̭̔͋̑̏́̈́̽̀̑͋̃̎̅̀̉̎̿̿̽̅̿̇̀̾͆̾̄̔̈́̃͋̑̌̔̏͘̕͝͝͠͝ͅḑ̵̛͇͖̦͈̜̺̟̘̹͈͈̱͈͈͍̠̞̱͙̗̙̰̱̬͈̣̹͈̭͔͈̰̪̼̩̗̜͖̭̘̈́̎͛̈́̇̈́̊̿̉̉̀́͝ ̷̧̢̨̨̢̛̛̞̬̗͚̲̻̗̯̲̖̠͕̗̦͙̤͙͚̫̗̪͙̳̠̠̦̱̃͆̏̽̄̂͗̓͌͆̉̑̈́͆̾̉̔̌̒̀̽͊͑͂̍̑͗̽̓̏̀̉͘̚̕͘͜͠͝ͅB̵̢̡̡̧̡̺̯͈̬̝̮̘̫̻͔̮͔͕͙̤̞͉̜̘̣́̄͜ͅe̷̛̳̲͚̭̘̫͙͉̓̅͋͑̅̉̉̂̐̃̔̏̀̌̌̈́̎̎̏̋̅̂̑̆̔̒̄̍͘̚͘̚̕͠͝͠͝c̴̢̡̧̡̨̛̞̪̤͎̮̘͎͉̟̹̝͚̩̃̓̈́̒̇̉̀́́͑̌͜͝k̴̡̬͙̥͎̘̟̣͇̣͚̟̣̱̺̹̝̫͖̯͓̗̣͙̲̟͓̪̤̲̇̒̄͋̋̐̉͛̂̌̋̑̏͂͌̿̈́͒̎̓̕͘͘͜͝ͅǫ̴͔͚̖̟̫̰͈͍̣̥͇͔̮̘̖͍̰̪̲̰̻͙͓̳̘͉͕͙̀̑͊̉̉̎̏̕͜ͅͅņ̵̢̧͉͍̟͎̻̮̹͔̼̮̩͎͇͕͓̳͇̙̰̗̦̬̲̝͚̙̖͊́̀͑̓̍͋̓̀̓̚͝ş̷̡̢̧̢̛͚͍̜̜̙͙̞̮͙̘̮̣̯͚͇̭͙͓̙̬͕̯͎̠̠̬͙͓̣̀̆͋̈̈̍̌́͂̇̃̀́̑̾̿͒̅͋̄͆̋̀͋̽͗̔̓̾̌̽̔͆͆̊̕̚̕̚̕̚͘̚̕͘͜͜͜͠

Corrupted File One

ℕ 𝕀 𝕄 𝔹 𝕌 𝕊