21st attempt


lyrics: 
nervously laugh knowing that my life is wraps
Bitch im at ur door better let me in right now
wanna feel heard without screamin real loud, ik i deserve to be somewhere in the dirt
your profile thats where i fuckin lurk
ima chop u up eat like u like big lurch
i make bad decisions so i cry in church
gettin traumatized, dark web where i search
rlly need some opps someone put me on a shirt
man my lifes over ion even wna try
wanna end ur life but they call it suicide
u can hold my hand and we'll die fucking trying

die trying

@imcursedbyuu
yuh yuh jitz wan me dead
itz okay tho
we gon leave his white tee shirt red bro
walkin round wit my pantz hangin real low
jitz be bossman but be movin dlow
like why he talkin crazy like i wont check him
despair in da city causin mayhem
why he actin like dis drac wont lay him
like boi talkin crazy gon get yu flipped

@koffinnn
ya ya ya koffin in dis bitch n im snortin up a line now, u waz talkn all dis shit now u hittn me up 4 a feat, she suckin on dis dick n im turnt asf yuh, talking to dis bitch n she said "omg r u koffin" smoking on dis pack da shit got me coughin, (cough) yea got too much money in dis shit yea its multiplying, bitch said she didnt wanna fuk kno she lyn

end w/@koffin #despair2014 #despairbloodseekerzz

dont think about it

ruin myself in the process

white women scare me

prod korp

all of this pain in my body
i aint ever been invited to a party
when i get scared i say srry
i dont feeel shit when im off the molly
wish i had a life but i lost it
seen a vampire n i got bit
ion wanna hug bitch suck dick
if u talkin shit imma get u cut quick
fucking hate my life n its stupid
always lived my life excluded

its stupid ik

im a dick (prod me)

i named that bridge maggie // fuck u not 4jay i hate you

disponible tambien en bandcamp. arte por @bbbalta

gol ! !

AI Generated lyrics about "Witty Vibes" focusing on the internal experience of being witty.   Through spoken word I have created a speaker persona whose mind runs much faster than ordinary conversation, treating social interaction as a rapid fire mental chess game.    Through rhythmic repetition and strong metaphors, by comparing rebuttal to a tailored suit, i have attempted to give production a dynamically sharp energy that irectly reflects the vibe of "Witty Vibes"

They call it small talk. I call it The preamble to the good stuff, the atmospheric hum. While you’re discussing weather and where your cousin’s coming from, My brain is already five moves ahead, sketching a diagram of the punchline. I’m running a mental marathon on a coffee-break timeline.
See, the silence—that's a vacuum. I can't abide a void. So I fill it with a phrase that's perfectly annoyed, Or one that shines so bright, it gets immediately employed By everyone who hears it. My thoughts? They are unalloyed. No filter. Just precision. That’s the witty vibe.
The world moves in slow motion for the quick-minded mind. I'm watching the geometry of conversation unwind. You say A, I hear B, I've already set the trap. My rebuttal is a tailored suit, yours is a hand-me-down cap.
I'm the editor of the moment. I cut the cliché out. I delete the mundane, the things you think you care about. The pause before I speak? That’s not hesitation, friend, That’s me scrolling through ten options, deciding on the best blend Of sarcasm and truth, the kind that hits with grace, The verbal equivalent of a smile slapped on your face.
I've got an internal rhyming dictionary, always ready to deploy a perfect auxiliary.
They say, "Don't overthink it." I say, "How else do you pre-think it?" You only get one shot to sink it. You’re asking me to shrink it? My intellect? To dim it? To make the edges soft? No, the challenge is to make the brilliance readable and aloft.
I speak in metaphors that bite, not just to sound profound, But because the simple truth is often too loud for dry ground. So I dress it up in cleverness, a suit of sparkling chainmail, So when the insight strikes you, it hits like a witty hailstorm.
I'm an observer. I take notes. I catalog the quirks. The way you hold your coffee, the moment that your temper works. The flaws are the fuel, the humanity's engine oil. And my wit is the high-octane spirit that brings it to a boil.
So if my timing's unexpected, or the laugh tracks the beat, It’s not me trying to show off, it’s just my mind running on fast feet. This cognitive caffeine is the only way I survive. The rhythm of the retort. That's the core of the witty vibe.

Produced in the
ARAPA Music Studio
Sydney - Australia

4.11.2025

dont think about it

wifesaghost

Recent comments

trey

L4s3rMePup (@H3xxTheRat)

cursedbyuu

Ghxul

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