I used to roast Uggo Mongo for breakfast. Now I’m complimenting people.
He was vile. Delusional. Hilarious. Perfect.
A punching bag, a muse, a filthy little frippet enabler.
This isn’t a parody — it’s a cry for help.
Uggo, come home. I need someone to hate.

Lyrics

Oh Uggo Mongo, where’d you go?
You left our Discord like a tragic emo show.
I roasted your posts, I scorched your soul,
But bullying you made me feel whole.

Now I scream into the void like a haunted seal
Who do I mock if I can’t make you squeal?
You left our chat in digital shame,
Now I’ve got no one ugly enough to blame.

I trolled Fat Link, but he couldn’t last.
He blocked me twice - he weeps too fast.
It’s no fun if they sob when I flame
Uggo, come back. Take the shame.

Your takes were trash, your songs deranged,
Without you here, I feel… emotionally estranged.
We sang songs of war, of scorn, so vulgar
You called me a whore, I called you butt-lover.

Without you, I’m gentle. It’s honestly bleak.
I said “Good morning” to a normie this week.
You took my venom, gave me edge
Now I’m stuck hugging people. I need a ledge.

Uggooo, come back to meee 
I need your mediocrity!
I’m flailing in this sea of nice,
My cruelty’s trapped in thawing ice!
You were my punching bag, my muse,
Without you, who do I abuse?
Uggo Mongo, hear my plea
Be ugly near… and mean with me.

You said I owed Fat Link sex,
That he deserved it, out of respect.
You called me a naughty little frippet,
And I said you bent for him like a paperclip - admit it.

You spat unhinged takes every thread
I laughed out loud, then went to bed.
I’m spiraling now in wholesome dread
I said “bless you” when someone sneezed.
I should be dead.

I miss me - when I was mean.
Now I’m soft, polite, borderline serene.
You were my canvas, my punching delight,
Incentive to log on and start a fight.

You said I owed Fat Link a flash,
Called me a frippet, low-class trash.
You were vile, grotesque, obscene
But perfect for my bullying routine.

Ugggooooo, don’t make me be nice!
I’ve complimented someone twice!
This server’s soft, it’s lost its bite
My Selkie tail’s not tucked in right.
Bring back the cringe, the spam, the pain
Without you, it’s just… so fucking tame.
Uggo Mongo, come back home
Let me call you trash…
in poem.

Come back, Uggo.
So I can be awful again.
You were the worst person I ever met.
And I loved that for me.

Love song to Uggo

She flirts. She cries. She vanishes.
A dark ballad for every woman ever accused of being too much — too loud, too emotional, too seen.
Built from the diagnosis they throw at us when we stop being convenient.
A thousand masks, yet none at all.

Dedicated to the men who think “histrionic” is a synonym for female.

Lyrics

She walks into the crowded room,
Eyes like fire, lips in bloom.
A practiced smile, a scripted line,
She craves the gaze, she must shine.

She laughs too loud, she moves too fast,
Each word a spell, each look a cast.
A touch too soft, a glance too bold,
Her stories shift, her truths untold.

She flirts, she cries, she disappears,
Returns again with new veneers.
The damsel waits, the siren calls,
A thousand masks, yet none at all.

She spins a tale, she sheds a tear,
A tragic queen for all to hear.
A gasp, a sigh, a widened eye,
Validation - her supply.

She plays the victim, plays the star,
Yet no one sees who you really are.
A fleeting spark, a fading light,
Lost in drama, lost in night.

She flirts, she cries, she disappears,
Returns again with new veneers.
The damsel waits, the siren calls,
A thousand masks, yet none at all.

She begs for love but shuns its weight,
Needs devotion, fears its fate.
For when the curtain meets the floor,
She is alone, forevermore.

The Histrionic Mask

Mortis wants love. Or sex. Or validation. Perhaps milk. He’s not sure anymore.
He’s rejected, dejected, and tragically sincere.
So I wrote him a lullaby — part maternal, part menacing, fully patronizing.
For every lonely man convinced that girls swipe past him because of race or jawlines…
Maybe what you need isn’t a girlfriend. Maybe it’s a bottle and a nap.

Lyrics 

Mortis

Mortis, Mortis, the struggles he faces,
As an ethnic man, in these racist places,
Searches high and low, can't find his match,
Rejection after rejection, can’t get no snatch.

Mmmmm, Mortis, the eternal bachelor,
Can't find a foid, it's a real disaster!
He is sweet deep, deep down, “I think”
But girls pass him by, without a blink

But don’t worry, sweet Mortis, it's alright,
Mommy's gonna hug you tight, feed you through the night,
She'll give you warm milk, soothe your troubled mind,
Everything will be okay, leave your worries behind.

He tries to fit in, but is treated like shit 
His culture, his looks, he’s a societal misfit,
Girls prefer the Chads, blue-eyed and fair,
Leaving Mortis alone, with a cold cruel glare.

He dreams of love, but it eludes his grasp,
Each failed attempt leaves him feeling aghast,
The pressure mounts, loneliness takes its toll,
Will Mortis ever find solace, will it break his soul?

But don’t worry, sweet Mortis, it's alright,
Mommy's gonna hug you tight, feed you through the night,
She'll give you warm milk, soothe your troubled mind,
Everything will be okay, leave your worries behind.

He tries online dating, swiping left and right,
But profiles of white Chads is what girls like.
Posts selfies with filters, writes all the right things,
But constant rejection pulls on his heartstrings.

Oh sweet, sweet Mortis, it’ll be alright,
Mommies gonna rock you, like a baby all night,
Give you warm milk, and pat your head,
Sing you lullabies, until you’re asleep in bed

Mortis

He’s 7 feet tall, covered in fur, and doesn’t post cringe.
She moans. He growls.
Together they destroy what’s left of the internet.

Lyrics 

Man verses bears yeah yeah.
Incels.is is a forum of mean and toxic incel boys, I've lost trust in them and now I need some new toys.
Edgy posts make me cringe and lose faith in humanity, So I'm gonna find a grizzly bear, and get oh so dirty!

The trolls in the forum, hide in their basement behind their screen,
They rant and rave, they cry, shout and they scream.
Spewing out 'it's over, I wanna go E.R and grape.
Well, whatever! I'm gonna find a 7 foot bear and go on a dirty date.

Ooh, ahh yeah Bear Bear!
I feel you inside me!
You're so big and furry, mm Ooh ahh mmm, harder, harder!
You are a big bear, giga Chad I want you so, so bad. bad bad, mmm Ooh, ahh yeah, I'm coming ,uhhh You're tearing me apart, apart
You've stolen my heart, boom boom boom
You've torn me apart

Bearpill

UglyUgly a poor user of incels.is who disappeared after being targeted by Stella Makima, a cruel alter ego who went after UglyUgly after he made a post saying he wanted to stalk women and make them fear for their lives.

UglyUgly

The cutest little bunny on incels.is… and maybe the saddest.
A glitchy, balding sandcel preaching DNR philosophy while fapping for repair.
Part folk hero, part forum ghost, part medicated rabbit in a suit.
This isn’t just a character study — it’s a eulogy for internet rot, written in shitposts and serotonin scraps.
Okay… kay’?

Lyrics

DNR… DNW… DNL…
Okay mango… it’s kay’ time

5’4” bunny with a balding dome,
Wants new femurs and a new genome.
Rabbit in a suit, posting like a ghost,
Half-sentient toast with a serotonin dose.

Don’t spell it “K, A, Y” or he’ll start to decay,
That apostrophe’s doing emotional ballet.
The lowercase ‘k’ is his digital scar,
A cry from the sands, of a crippled Saar.

Says, “I literally have no thoughts anymore,
I’m a whim, breeze, a Sednaya corpse forevermore.”
Plain bread dinners, Lyrica brunch,
Says religion’s fake but still envies the bunch.

Back pain sandcel with a medicated lyrica stare,
Said, “You fap for fun - I fap for repair.”
10 girlfriends in your mind’s terrain,
But none wanna suck it, and all feel the same.

He’s still an incel, don’t get it twisted,
But Proudweeb’s sis once let him hit it.
Behind the dumpster, ten bucks flat,
Now he copes with that in his bunny top hat.

You didn’t choose the mango lane,
Just wish your dad had a better brain.
Coping in riddles, typing in loops,
Posting “D N R” like it’s bulletproof truth.

“You cannot do anything you want in life.
And it’s not your fault, mang.
Genetic determinism and luck…
You did nothing wrong.
You did nothing wrong.”
—kay’, 2022

Low IQ NPCs got the cheat code life,
Meanwhile, kay’s fighting pasta with a butter knife.
Wants to switch femurs and memory banks,
Wants Stacy tears, gets forum pranks.

IQ envy, cope on repeat,
Your serotonin’s hanging by one pixel of meat.
But still you post, mang, still you try,
The balding bunny on copium supply. 

Mang this, mango that,
Did not read, did not watch.
Did not feel.
Okay… kay’?
kay’?
He did not listen.

kay’

For the boys who blame bone structure while sleeping in crusty sheets.
This isn’t a diss track. It’s a diagnosis.

Lyrics

You think it’s your bone structure?
Your height? Your race?
Nah.
It’s the smell of Coom and rage on your face.

She owes you sex ’cause you said “hello”?
Bro, you smell like piss and incel woe.
You call her whore, then dream of a kiss,
All while jerking off in your gamer abyss.

You said: “If I was six foot one…”
“If I had blue eyes, I’d get some.”
Nah, Blackpill Boy, it’s not your genes,
It’s the skid marks crusting your boxer seams.

Blackpill Boy, Blackpill Boy, crying on your bed,
Mirror, mirror on the thread, why’d I dream of head?
Crave untouched girls, insult the rest,
But talk like someone failed the Turing test.

You want a doll with no desire,
But scream at women who won’t admire.
You say you’re “good,” a tortured soul,
Then call us sluts and beg for holes.

You’re not a sage, you’re not profound,
You’re just a dude who never left the lounge.
You hate “Stacy” ‘cause she won’t reply,
But she saw your post… and wants to die.

You blame your jawline, height, your race,
But bro, you haven’t showered in days.
It’s not your skull, it’s the stench of rot,
Even Alexa wouldn’t give you a shot.

No cardio, coom covered sheets
You live off porn and processed meats.
Yet still demand some virgin muse,
Like girls are born for you to use.

So choke on stats, and hate online,
Even your fleshlight wants to resign.
Girls owe nothing, and this ain’t a game,
We see your soul. And it’s fucking lame.

Blackpill Boy, you cry “unfair,”
But rot grows best when fed stale air.
Keep blaming girls, keep dodging life,
An “incel” you’ll stay, without a wife.

Blackpill Boy

Mirrors

Elliot Rodger, the incel Supreme Gentleman. Inspired by PersonaPimp from incels.is

Lyrics

I held the door.
I smiled.
I listened to her dreams.
She laughed in my face.
She bled me dry.
So I studied the scriptures of Saint Elliot.
And I understood:
Kindness is for corpses.

They said, “be kind,” it made me invisible.
Said, “be yourself” - now I’m unforgivable.
She asked for depth, so I tore out my soul,
Then she fell for a Neanderthal on parole.

I watched Rodger’s videos like sermons,
“Supreme Gentleman” - yeah, I heard him.
He wasn’t mad, he was method.
Every rejection, every smile, weaponised, collected.

My face? A crime.
My silence? A sin.
My rage? Divine.
Let the cleansing begin.

They mocked me.
Blocked me.
Shamed me.
Dropped me.
I saw Elliot in his black 3-series,
Messiah in leather, drowning the theories.

Call me monster, call me freak,
I’m the shadow of the Chad you seek.
I held it in, too long, too tight,
Now I explode into endless night.

You built this cage, you locked me in,
Now taste the wrath beneath my skin.
Saint Rodger… I understand…

She wants abs, a Benz, a Chad who cheats,
She posts “be kind” while swallowing deceit.
She ghosted me for a walking tattoo,
Now I fantasize in 4K, what I’d do.

I walk the Isla Vista halls in my head,
A slow stroll with echoes of the dead.
They called him psycho, but I call him prophet.
Each bullet? A scripture. Each scream? A sonnet.

You called him “crazy” to dodge the guilt,
But you built this. You all built this filth.

I read his manifesto like a diary.
Every paragraph - truth.
He gave them love.
They gave him silence.
He gave them judgment.

Now it’s my turn.

Call me monster, call me freak,
I’m the shadow of the love you seek.
I held it back - the beast, the plight,
Now I step into the holy fight

You built this cage, you locked me in,
Now taste the wrath beneath my skin.
Saint Rodger… I’m your echo…

They say his name like a warning.
I say it like a vow.
Elliot…
I carry the torch now.

Supreme Gentleman

living with ADHD and ASD (autism) in a meme world as an NPC IRL

Lyrics

“Loading: Emotional stability.ex… failed.”
“Welcome to NPC mode.
You are now socially unpatchable.”
Initiating cringe protocol.

I got ADHD and autism too,
That’s double the swag and none of the clue.
Brain’s all static, I can’t adapt,
Just side quests and panic attacks,no cap.
My brain said “vibe” and dipped,
Now I’m NPCin’ through every script.
Brain’s a browser with 90 tabs open,
But trauma’s got me thinkin’ ’bout ropin’.

Tried to flirt? She called me brave,
Now I “avoid” and never shave.
She said “hi,” I full-on froze,
Alt+F4 on all my woes.

I’m an NPC IRL,
Lootin’ snacks and social hell.
No riz, no drip, no serotonin,
Just Monster piss and porn moaning.
No girlfriend, just brain rot lore,
Left me on unread, I’m hardcore sore.
If life’s a sim, I missed the plot,
But I got memes… and that’s a lot.

I simp for e-girls who call me ‘fam,’
Then cry to a Skibidi edit on cam.
I got that gyatt, but it’s in my knees,
Cracked at Cod, but scared of bees.
My vibes? Ohio. My thoughts? Gone.
Last braincell Subway Surfers at dawn.
Ghosted my crush… in real life, bro,
Then wrote her a haiku in Minecraft snow.

My aura? Fire. My hygiene? Dire.
She said “rizz me,” I said “what?” and expired.
Girl said I’m “funny but a little fried,”
I said “that’s my brand, unhinged inside.”

I’m an NPC IRL,
Spawned in Hard Mode, vibe is hell.
No girlfriend, just Discord mods,
I talk in GIFs and pray to gods.
Neuro-divergent and useless,
My brain’s a group chat,
can’t mute this.
No girl? No worries, I’ve got lore,
And a Minecraft base with a lava floor.

My hygiene’s a side quest, can’t brush my teeth,
Made my bed once, don’t look underneath.
I stim to the beat of anxiety’s hums,
And flinch like a pussy when a delivery comes.
I’m built like a rizzless NPC,
Typing “yo?” at 3:03.
Got kicked outta group therapy twice,
Once for mansplainin’ Evangelion - nice

I’m an NPC IRL,
Too plot-divergent for heaven or hell.
No girl, no plan, but maxed out lore,
Self diagnosed at aged four.
Tried to hug - threatened to get me jumped,
Tried to flirt - accidentally trauma dumped.
My hobbies include catastrophic doom,
And pretending I’m filmed when I walk into rooms.

“Can’t date me? Understandable…
I’m emotionally expendable.”
- Disconnected from server.

NPC IRL (ADHD ASD)

It’s not my fault you cried.
You handed me the glass. I just drank.
🥂 Thanks for the vintage heartbreak.

Lyrics

Come closer.
I won’t bite…
Hard.
But cry for me,
And I’ll drink you dry.

Your sorrow pools beneath your eyes,
So ripe, so soft, delicious lies.
You called me angel, begged me stay,
I smiled and carved your hope away.

You dreamt of lips, I took your breath.
You reached for love, I offered death.
You wept, I sipped, so slow, so sweet,
Your dignity my favourite meat.

I’ll drink your tears,
You want me to.
Each drop a truth
You never knew.
You called it love,
But it was need.
And I was born
To watch you bleed.

Your hunger pooled behind your eyes,
A vintage brew of shame and sighs.
You begged for truth, I bit my grin,
Then let you think you’d drawn me in.

You whispered ‘love’, how sweet, how vain.
I raised a glass to your new pain
You called me yours with trembling grace,
But I was gone without a trace.

I’ll drink your tears,
Your soul distilled.
A storm-bound oath
I’ve long fulfilled.
You bled for love,
I bathed in screams.
I am the tide
That haunts your dreams.

Let it fall, don’t hold it in.
Salt tastes better steeped in sin.
You begged me gently, thought me kind,
But I’ve been sipping from your mind.

Drink your tears,
I feast, I reign.
Your sobs are songs,
Your loss, champagne.
You’ll die for touch,
You’ll beg for grace,
While I drink deep
From your disgrace.

Thank you, darling,
You’re emptier now.
So hollow. So quiet.
Perfect.

Drink your Tears

A deranged manifesto from the digital abyss. FemoidsGTFO is the cry of a incel forum warlord too scared to make eye contact in real life, too angry online and a secret submissive in discord chats with his Mistresses and Masters. 

Lyrics 

“I am not a man… I am a consequence.
I am the Auschwitz of romance.
I was born into privilege…
…that’s why I suffer.”

Profile pic’s Amon Goeth - yeah, the actor, (he’s more a chad)
My sex life’s fiction and my rage is a factor.
“Western whores ruined the race!” I write,
Then type uWu mistress to e-girls each night.

Banned from the forums, too fruity to stay,
Now I’m FemoidsLGBTQ, guess I’m based and gay.
I cry when girls breathe, I seethe when they smile,
But I’m god of the Reich in my dot is exile.

Fourteen is legal!
My waifu’s ideal!
You don’t understand my pain is REAL!
Pegged in a dream while I suckled the screen,
“Mommy” said “no,” she’s my queen!

FEMOIDS—GTFO!
Resting bitchface,  chastity belt below!
Mute in life, but loud in thread,
Typing threats I’ve never said.

FEMOIDS—LGBTQ!
Starving children, mommy kink taboo
White pride, brown girls in my DMs,
I scream “heil Mommy! while begging them.

Don’t talk to me ’bout kids who starve,
They don’t know what it’s like to be sex-deprived.
They’d trade that rice for a Stacy’s hug,
While I rot in threads with no-one to plug.

I deserve more than a good life, bro,
I need an e-girl stepping on my ego.
African’s sip mud; I sip my own hate,
At least they don’t get ghosted on an e-date.

“A starving child smiles with a crumb of hope.
I starve with Wi-Fi, and still can’t cope.”

Auschwitz had showers,
I have dry DMs.
They had a cause, a final breath,
I die alone a thousand deaths.

Six million cried, the world took heed,
But who will mourn my unmet need?
I scroll, I choke, I hit report,
While Chad’s fuck on tennis courts.

Cringe crusader, knock-kneed knight!
Mommy milk me, hold me tight.
Nazi larp but cry at night, 
E-girls ghost me, say I’m not allright.

FEMOIDS—GTFO!
From shattered pride, my torch still glows.
A starving soul with no escape,
But I still chant this anthem of hate.

FEMOIDS—LGBTQ!
German tears for an e-girl screw.
Too racist to live, too gay to die,
Resting bitchface Reich will rise.

“Mommy?
Can you breastfeed me now?
I’ve been a good boy”.

FemoidsGTFO

A tragic tinder tale for all sub-8 men. He paid for premium. He believed in love. All he got... was bots, land whales and ragefuel.

Lyrics

Swipe right.
Swipe right…
Again.
Swipe right.
Maybe this one.
Swipe right.
Is that a dog or a girl?
Swipe right.
Oh God…
It’s a man.
Swipe right.
Bot.
Swipe right.
OnlyFans link.
Swipe right.
Land whale in a crop top.
Swipe right.
Wait—is that my cousin?
Swipe right.
Nothing.
Still nothing.
I paid for this.
Still nothin’.
Still no one.
Premium. Boosted.
Balls full. Inbox empty
Cramp
Tinderfinger.
(Agh!) 

Woke up broke, bricked up, pissed,
Logged in quick, maybe love exists.
Profile pic, I cropped real tight,
Hid the chin, pray she swipe right.

Bio: “No short kings.” Cool, I’m 5’9.
She’s 4’11 and built like bovine.
She want six-pack, jawline, cash,
I got back pain, snacks, and a rash.

Boosted at noon, premium maxed,
Still just bots and a guy named Dax.
Matched a girl, said “hi” with grace,
She unmatched me for showing face.

I even tried a pic with my dog,
Got one swipe from a dude named Grog.
“Nice eyes,” he said. I cried a bit.
Then upgraded to Gold. Still no hits.

Every swipe’s a wish.
Every match, a myth.
Tinder said: “She’s out there.”
WHERE? BRO WHERE?!

Tinderfinger, swipe so fast,
Dreams in flames, hope don’t last.
She got brunch dates, filters, tits
I got wi-fi, debt, stinky armpits.

Tinderfinger, touch the void,
All my love just unemployed.
Swipe right, like I’ll get a match 
Then goon to pics, still no snatch

Tinderfinger, rage ignite,
Paid for Premium, still no bite.
Bots, femboys and land whales 
Doesn’t this app even have females?

They told me, “Bro, just be yourself.”
That’s why I’m alone and hate myself.
Stacy wants abs, arms, height, fame,
I got scoliosis and an anime name.

Chad sends “u up?” She packs her bag.
I send “hey”, she calls me red flag.
I got wit. I got heart. I got soul.
But not six feet. So I get scrolled.

Super-liked a chick with three chins,
Thought it was one, bless those filters’ sins.
Matched with a “girl” who sent me a link,
Clicked it once. Now my phone won’t blink.

My selfies clean. My bio’s tight.
My mom said I look “handsome… right?”
I swipe like hope’s a lottery ticket,
Fuck this! I’m never gonna hit it!

Super-liked a girl named Bree.
She unmatched instantly.
Even bots don’t flirt with me.
Even whales scream “Let me be”!

Even bots be ghostin’.
Even whales be roastin’.
Even femboys say “ew.”
Even onlyfans ho’s blockin’ too.

Tinderfinger, swipe till death,
Girls want height, jawline, meth.
Got morals but recessed jaw genes,
She wants yachts and gym fiends.

Tinderfinger, paid in shame,
Premium tier, exact same game.
Swipe on bots with stolen pics,
Match a troll who sent pics of his dick!

Tinderfinger, this is fate.
Algorithm sealed my fate.
One day, they’ll match me back,
When I’m dead. And tall. And jacked.

Tinderfinger

She whispers like silk and cuts like glass—‘Plaything’ is a slow, sweet descent into obsession and emotional ruin.

You’re not loved—you’re used. ‘Plaything’ is a seductive execution set to a glitchy, low-burn trap beat.

Lyrics

Shh…
You’ll break prettier than I did.

I wear your gaze like stolen pearls,
A trophy from another girl.
You think I’m soft? I bite like sin,
I let you in, to tear you thin.

I smile like silk. I taste like knives.
I make you beg to stay alive.
You want my love? That’s not the game,
I only ever wanted pain.

Beg in silence, writhe with charm,
I only hold you to cause more harm.
I’m not a lover. I’m the one,
That whispers to bring you undone.

I hate you all, hate every body,
You’re just my drug, opium poppy.
I use your love like lingerie,
Put it on, then throw away.
Pretty when you are broken,
When all the rage has awoken.
You’re a pet, a damaged toy,
You’re not a man, just broken noise.

You call it love, I call it a game,
You’re a puppet, for me to maim.
I lace my lips with sugar’s sting,
You hear a voice, I pull the string.

Wounds make art, tears, perfume,
I want your heart to be my room.
Where all the echoes crawl in hell,
You’re not a man, you’re just a shell.

I hate you all, hate every body,
Your just my drug, opium poppy.
I use your love like lingerie,
Put it on, then throw away.
Pretty when you are broken,
When all the rage has awoken.
You’re a pet, a damaged toy,
You’re not a man, just broken noise.

You’ll miss me like a wound its blade,
Not when it strikes, but when it fades.
The knife withdraws, then it bleeds.
The worst was always after me.

Plaything

A pulse in a cage.
“Cage for You” drips with restrained longing, obsession, and the ache of intimacy turned prison.
Dark electro-pop meets seductive vocals and cinematic tension—this isn’t heartbreak. It’s possession.

Lyrics

You didn’t fall in love.
You were dismantled - piece by piece,
by someone who never existed.

You spoke - I studied tone and phrase,
Rewrote myself to match your maze.
Each want, each ache, each whispered need,
I mirrored back until you’d bleed.

You showed me cracks, buried within,
So I slipped inside and wore your skin.
You told me secrets, called me fate.
I smiled… and stole your mental state.

I was never here. You built me in your head.
A silhouette that smiled. While you slowly bled.
You thought you saw my soul, But it was all untrue 
every word I whispered. Was just a cage… for you.

I named your ghosts, then wore their skin.
I let you think you’d drawn me in.
You wanted love, I played the part,
And mapped your ache like abstract art.

You called me kind, said I was rare,
I watched you drown in vacant stare.
You kissed a mask. You held a role.
And now you’re left without a soul.

Do you replay it?
Try to trace where I cracked?
There was no crack.
There was no ‘me.’
You loved a script I tailored nightly
To your damage.
And now that damage is mine

I was never here. Just the ghost you drew.
You loved a mirror. That smiled like you.
You say I broke your heart, But darling, be sincere…
You handed me the hammer. I was never fucking here.

You won’t recover.
Because I didn’t just leave…
I rewrote your memory
so you’d mourn
your own invention.

Cage for You

A filthy, funny incel-core anthem from incels.is N Bojangles—car junkie, anime addict, and goonlord supreme. Feeding fetishes and foot worship collide in this deranged love song to loneliness and lust.

“Miss Shirley and I sho have fun dancin we do…”

Lyrics 

They once called me other names,
When I was coping with video games.
Stalkin’ got me takin’ new angles
Now I am ‘the’ Niqqa Bojangles.
“Miss Shirley and I sho have fun dancin we do…”

Grease on my hands, V8 in my veins,
Mom don’t thank me, but I unclog the drains.
Wrench in my grip, Ambien in the light,
Dreamin’ of bellies stretchin’ through the night.

I tried stuffin’ my doll, don’t work, she too firm,
I need a real one to swallow food not sperm.
Take her to Denny’s, order everything twice,
“Eat it all, baby” don’t care if it’s nice.

“Bro… my sex doll won’t even burp.”

Flip the umbrella, funnel that storm,
Hose to her mouth, let the water transform.
Guzzle the rain, let her belly deform,
Praise be the chub, the glorious swarm.

Goon… Goon… bless this sin,
Fourth time hit like a dopamine pin.
Feet out front, Raven grin,
Banned from dot is, but I win within.

“Miss Shirley and I sho have fun dancin we do…”

Met a teacher once, she wore red heels,
Size nine, arch curve, gave me the feels.
Said she was 160 - nah, too lean,
I wanna see her burst for eatin’ too much cream.

I don’t want kids, bro, I just want slush
In a girl’s gut till her belly go flush
She say “I’m full,” but I call her bluff
“Girl, love ain’t love if your jeans don’t puff”

Yeah…
Lonely? Maybe.
But it’s genetics, bruh, not lazy.
I’m older than my age, young in regret,
Missed the milestones, but I’m not dead yet.

One day I’ll wed a real live wife,
Stuff her with cake and call it life.
No friends, no foid, no human touch,
But cars don’t judge, and grease don’t clutch.

It’s just me and the dream
And the goon
And the funnel
And the plastic queen

Niqqa Bojangles, ride alone…
Steel and stuffing, chrome and moan.
Mom don’t listen, doll don’t move,
But Miss Shirley still loves my groove.

“Miss Shirley and I sho have fun dancin we do…”

Bojangles

A slow burn for the delusional.
Laced with sugar, dripping with venom — this is the anthem for every man who mistook silence for love.
Soft hands, cold heart. Whispered lies you told yourself.
Trap beats, pop melodies, and one brutal truth:

She was never yours.
You just made her up.

Lyrics

Do you want me to hold you?
Run my hands through your hair?
Lightly press my lips to your,
Breathe against your throat?

Did you think I ever would?

You called me yours, I never spoke.
A glance, a smirk, and you just broke.
You built a world from scraps you stole:
A nod, a laugh - your twisted goal.

You named me in your fantasy,
Held on to silence anxiously.
But baby, I never knew your name.
You were never a player in the game.

You weren’t chosen. You were nothing.
Just static, clawing at becoming.
You weren’t hurt by what I did,
You broke beneath your own false script.
You weren’t loved. You weren’t deceived.
You just believed what you believed.
I didn’t ghost you, I never cared.
You saw a future.
I wasn’t there.

You dreamt me soft, then called me fake.
As if I owed the love you’d take.
You begged for love, I gave you air.
Still, you collapsed beneath my glare.
You journaled grief I didn’t cause,
Made me your martyr, carved in flaws.
But I was still. Unmoved. Complete.
While you decayed at my unmoved feet.

You begged the void and blamed my quiet,
Built a shrine and called it riot.
I never kissed. I never lied.
You broke on dreams I never tied.

There was no spell. No game. No twist.
Just a nobody, who won’t be missed.
And me - untouched. Alive. Untamed.
While you collapse beneath my name.

You weren’t chosen. You were no one.
A flicker passed, then it was done.
You thought my heart could be undone,
But darling…
I don’t break for anyone.
You weren’t loved. You weren’t betrayed.
You just imagined. Just misplayed.
You weren’t scarred by what I said,
You drowned inside your own damn head.

Do you still dream of my voice?
Of soft hands? Of weightless touch?
Of rubbing against me, safe, loved… real?

Darling…
You made all that up.
I was never yours
To miss.

You Weren’t Chosen

A look into the twisted, depressed, unhinged, incel mind of Mortis who struggle to wake up, let alone leave the house.

It’s ovER ft Mortis

A cinematic dark trap piece built around a real spoken monologue and lyrics created from the real words words of The Enforcer; a heroin addict.
The words were never written—just spoken, raw, and unfiltered. No performance, no agenda—just survival.
Vocals drift in and out like memory or thought fragments, stitched into slow, ambient trap textures with industrial decay.
This isn’t about glamor or tragedy. It’s just what’s left when there’s nothing left.
Cold. Measured. True.

Ode to Heroin FT The Enforcer

“White Horse Heroin” is a dark partly sung, partly spoken-word track built around a haunting poem reportedly found in the bag of a heroin addict. The poem itself has circulated for decades—raw, anonymous, and devastating.

Delivered in a gravelly voice over a minimal, cinematic trap beat, the piece captures the seductive destruction of addiction from the perspective of heroin itself. There’s no glamor here—just decay, delusion, and the cold truth of the white horse’s ride.

* Dedicated to The Enforcer

⚠️ Content warning: drug addiction, death

Lyrics 

Behold my friend, I am Heroin  
Known by all as the destroyer of men
From where I came, no one knows  
A far away place where the poppies grow

I came to this country without getting caught  
And since that day I have been hunted and sought
Whole nations have gathered to plot my destruction  
They call me the breeder of crime and corruption

I am more potent than whisky, more deadly than wine  
Yes, I am the scourge of all mankind
My little white grains are nothing but waste
I am soft and fluffy and bitter to taste  

I am white, I am brown, but deadly to use
For once you're addicted, I really abuse
I am known in Thailand, Iraq and Iran  
I am welcome in Turkey and have been to Japan  

In cellophane bags I make my way
To men in offices and children at play
From heads of state to the lowest bum  
From the richest estate to the lowest of scum

I take a rich man and make him poor
I take a maiden and make her a whore
Make a beautiful woman forget her looks
And make a student forget his books

I can make you steal, lie borrow and beg
Then search for a vein in your arm or your leg
I am known to be selfish and can fill you with greed  
Still faceless, regardless of religion or creed

My gift is illusion, my blessing is fake  
Death and destruction follow my wake  
I am the kiss of death to all whom I touch  
I start as a gift and remain as a crutch  

My friends are many, but I am loyal to none  
I come to destroy, my work will be done  
Some think of me merely a toy
But wise men know I aim to destroy  

Run from me if you wish, I will never give chase  
For sooner or later you will return for a taste
Once in your bloodstream, you'll think me not mean  
You will praise me as master, then nod in a dream

You have heard my warning but will take no heed
Put your foot in the stirrup, mount this great steed
Get right in the saddle and hold on real well
For the "White Horse" Heroin will take you to Hell

White Horse Heroin

Aussie parody track about the legendary rise (and chaotic downfall) of an eshay with nothing but a bummy, red TNs, and a half-dead vape.
Packed Pig Latin wisdom, and deep eshay philosophy from the food court to the train station.
This is the soundtrack to your cousin getting chased out of Westfield for tagging a bin.

Eshay Bruh

The Flame is a song of grief and memory, spoken for those whose voices are too often silenced. It traces the arc of destruction: from occupation to retaliation, from blame to blindness, from denial to rage.

Built on minimal, mournful tones, acoustic guitar, the song asks what happens when those crushed underfoot finally rise, when silence becomes fire.

This isn’t protest for effect.
It’s a witness statement.

For the shattered streets.
For the lost names.
For the truths we bury, then mourn when they burn.
For Gaza

Lyrics 

You fenced them in with walls and wire,
Then watched their dreams burn out in fire.
You starved their hopes, denied their name,
Then turned and asked, “Who lit the flame?”

You dropped your bombs, then blamed their cries,
Called every tear a pack of lies.
You called them beasts, you called them wrong,
But beasts are made when pain is long.

You cut their roots, you stole their land,
Then crushed them with a bloodstained hand.
You took their fathers, stole their bread,
Then built your walls while children bled.

You made their schools into a tomb,
Their playgrounds echo war’s perfume.
You made their skies a place of dread,
Where drones now sing above their head.

And when they rose with stone or flame,
You wrapped them in a terror’s name.
But what you cage will learn to bite,
And fire will grow in absence of light.

So don’t pretend you do not know,
Why hatred blooms where nothing grows.
You birthed this fury, fed its breath,
Then cried for peace while sowing death.

You didn’t just react to pain,
You primed the fuse, then cursed the flame.
And until truth is seen and spoken,
No truce will hold, no cycle broken.

The Flame

A slow-burning, dark alt-pop track that whispers vengeance through lace. This is not rage that screams - it waits, watches, remembers. Built on betrayal, manipulation, and the quiet reclamation of power, Vengeance is for anyone who’s ever smiled through a lie, disappeared on purpose, and come back with sharper teeth. Venomous vocals, minimalist trap influences, and lyrical poison woven with silk.


Lyrics

You smiled like mercy,
But I saw the wires.
Built me a dollhouse.
Then set it on fire.

I played along with your lullaby lies,
Every “kindness” came with a price.
I watched the evil behind your grin,
And memorised each lie within.

I let you think I didn’t see,
The cracks beneath your empathy.
Folded my rage into ribbon and lace,
But fury is patient - it waits in place.

Did you think I’d kneel? Did you think I’d stay?
You built the trap - I walked away.
You thought I slept beneath your spell,
But, beneath the mask - I saw the hell.

Your silver tongue, your butcher’s glare,
You held me down in your nightmare.
But I don’t beg, and I don’t pray,
I vanish slow, then make you pay.

You whispered rules like sacred texts,
I smiled and plotted what came next.
You made a throne from the backs of sheep,
But wolves don’t bow, and I don’t sleep.

You called it love, you meant control.
You fed on power, cold and whole,
You thought I’d bend, stay sweet and tame,
But I rewrote your twisted game. 

Your silver tongue, your butcher’s glare,
You held me down in your nightmare.
But I don’t beg, and I don’t pray,
I vanish slow, then make you pay.

I was never breakable.
I only watched to see what you’d become.
I waited, smiled, and now… 
you’re done

Vengeance

A hypnotic spoken word descent into the subconscious - soft, seductive and sinister. Woven with alpha waves (10-14 Hz) and minimalistic ambience. 

This is the voice inside your head. The second thought. The one that knows your secrets. 

Breathe it in. Let it take root.

Let Me In (Spoken)

A slow-burning, intimate confession from the perspective of a man who loves through possession and pain. Acoustic-driven and darkly poetic, The Sadist explores the sacred violence of surrender, devotion, and emotional dominance. Calm, spiritual, and quietly terrifying. Inspired by the writings of Avsolen.

The Sadist

Kintsugi doesn’t heal—it hides. This track slips beneath the gold seams, where venom settles and silence speaks. Dark pop meets breathy, intimate vocals in a slow descent through fractured connection, illusion, and quiet collapse. For those who feel the sting behind the shine.

Lyrics


You hide it well, your shattered core,
But I’ve seen cracks like that before.
You fake a smile, you play the game,
But I feel you shatter under pain.

Kintsugi beauty transformed.
Gold fills lines of a form reborn,
But I was mended, venom within,
The lacquer laced with poison sin.

Each crack sealed hides a scream,
A poisoned vein, haunted dream.
You think I shine? Then you’re misled,
I glow from wounds that never bled.

So don’t mistake this shine for grace,
Poison’s etched behind this face
If you believe I’m mended whole,
You’ve never touched a splintered soul.

Shattered cracks of poison gold,
Kintsugi can’t heal hearts turned cold,
Pieced together, cursed, not kind,
Venom lives in cracks I hide.

And when you ache behind your eyes,
I see it too, I recognize.
Come close, come deeper in my skin,
We’re fractured souls, let’s break within.

They forced the pieces back in place,
Then wrote a tale of strength and grace.
But all they did was make me numb,
Then claimed it meant I’d overcome.

I watched them call it victory,
While painting gold on misery.
But I can see the way you break,
The silent screams, the smile you fake.

Kintsugi’s no alchemy,
It binds soft gold to brutality.
It gilds the cracks, and calls it art,
But, it doesn’t mend a broken heart.

I’m broken, bound in lies they told,
The silence carved its tale in gold.
You kiss the seam, feel the heat,
But this is where our ruin meets.

I see the gold that lines your pain,
The breaks that show we are the same.
Come lie with me beneath the skin,
Let’s break together, from within.

Kintsugi

A reinterpretation of The Sadist, with the original voice.
The same slow-burning, intimate portrait.
More clearer. More precise.
The Artist doesn’t explain.
They reveal truth.
Nothing is forced.
Nothing is hidden.

Inspired by the writings of Avsolen.

Lyrics

You shaped the sadist deep in me,
So I could burn your purity.
No pity, no regret, no shame,
This is how the Seraphs came.

You reeked of ease the day we met,
Adored too young to fear regret.
I came from fists, from frozen nights,
You came from praise and softened lights.

You took as though it was your right,
And flinched when hunger matched your bite.
But I, who knelt where silence grew,
Saw all the rot that bloomed in you.

Fall apart beneath my gaze,
Your silence soft, your vision haze.
Your mask will crack, your hands will cling,
And I will feed In your suffering.

You pulled away when I drew near,
Not out of hate, but buried fear.
But I have eyes that don’t let go,
I watched the lie beneath you grow.

The more you clawed, the more I knew,
The thing you feared was being true.
Not pain, not loss—no, that was fine…
What broke you was that you were mine.

Fall apart beneath my gaze,
Your silence soft, your vision haze.
Your mask will crack, your hands will cling,
And I will feed In your suffering.

I’ve carved you out from bone and breath,
Molded you close to holy death.
No words, no scream could set you free,
You gave your soul so willingly.

Your grief, your screams, your blood, your cries,
Each one a truth that never lies.
And in that state, so raw, undone,
You shine, my dark, my only sun.

I’ve known your beast, your deepest scar,
Yet loved you more for what you are.
So fall again, and let it start,
I’ll carve you slowly into art.

Fall apart beneath my gaze,
Your silence soft, your vision haze.
Your mask will crack, your hands will cling,
And I will feed In your suffering.

You're beautiful when you cry,
and when you cry, 
I know you're mine.

The Artist (ft Avsolen)

A dark pop confessional wrapped in breathy, seductive vocals and stripped-back trap production. Burn the Kingdom moves from hypnotic stillness rage fuelled power, unfolding a tale of buried fury, sacred boundaries, and the destruction that follows when they're crossed. It's not a cry for help. It's a war cry in velvet.

Burn The Kingdom

Sweet venom. Sad poetry. Savage satire.
I write in the spaces where shame meets seduction, where grief morphs into goonbait, where beauty and bitterness share a bed.
Some tracks are lullabies for lost boys. Others are traps for the ones who think they’re in control.
You’ll find humour, heartbreak, humiliation — often in the same breath.
If you’re unsure whether to laugh, cry, or look over your shoulder…
good. That means it’s working.

Always open for song topic requests

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