[Verse 1]
Room’s dark  no smoke, no mirrors.
Just a single bulb buzzin’ like it's tryna warn what’s nearer.
Got notebooks stacked like eviction slips,
Every page a moment I ain't supposed to admit.
See, I learned early: keep your silence in shape,
They only call it pain when it’s dressed like escape.
And I ain’t been “fine” since cassette tapes hissed,
Now I spit lines that feel like bricks through wrists.
I been cornered by thoughts that don’t even blink,
Chained to a voice that don’t flinch when I sink.
I ain’t pullin’ rabbits  I pull red flags,
Sew 'em in a jacket just to wear what I dragged.
You scroll for hope, I bled it in verses,
Carved every doubt out, rewrote the curses.
They want vibes, I give 'em scars with beats,
That hit like flashbacks under bedsheets.

[Verse 2]
I ain’t performin’  I’m unloadin’ a file,
Every word encrypted with a childhood trial.
They told me rhyme schemes sell better with bling,
So I brought nightmares dressed in sixteens.
I don’t flex chains  I flex coping mechanics,
Poured my grief in a flask and turned pain panoramic.
They thought I needed therapy  maybe I do,
But these beats let me scream where the silence grew.
I don't dance on stage  I shake with control,
Every punchline's buried in a trauma I stole.
You want hooks? Cool  here’s one in the jaw,
Now rewind that, scratch it, loop my flaws.
I’m not broken  I’m blueprintin’ the wreck,
Every failed dream’s a brick in my neck.
You chase charts  I chase the relief,
That maybe one verse’ll keep my pulse on beat.

[Verse 3]
There’s no magic in this, just muscle and mind,
Just a kid who learned rage makes a hell of a rhyme.
I never wrote spells  I wrote what I feared,
Till my verses became the map I steered.
I been screamin’ in silence since back of the class,
Now I spit truths dressed in razors and glass.
My notebook ain’t lyrics  it’s blood that dried,
A page for every time I got choked and lied.
You wanna know the trick? There ain’t none, friend.
This is pain wrapped in patience I won’t pretend.
You want beats to vibe? I got beats that bruise,
Every snare like the sound of another excuse.
So let the lights drop. Let the booth lock.
Let the DJ cut the loop on my thoughts.
And when the scratch hits, and the bassline swells 
You’ll swear you saw smoke…
But that’s just me raisin’ hell.

Revion - Hexed Out

Welcome to my channel, where music knows no boundaries. , I delve into the heart of multiple genres, crafting songs that resonate with a diverse audience. My passion for music transcends styles, allowing me to create unique soundscapes that cater to all tastes.

Revion - Hexed Out

Ovi