“???” is a deeply personal and emotionally raw custom song inspired by the style and structure of “Am I Dreaming” by Metro Boomin, A$AP Rocky, and Roisee. Performed from the perspective of a woman who has endured unimaginable internal and physical battles, the song serves as both a confession and a victory cry for survival, healing, and the unbreakable power of love.

This piece was written as a direct reflection of the artist’s real-life journey — a journey marked by intense struggle, profound pain, and unfiltered truth. She openly shares her experience living with dissociative identity disorder, severe depression, and severe suicidal tendencies — all while navigating serious heart issues and undergoing major surgeries to survive. These aren’t metaphors or artistic exaggerations — they are literal, lived realities.

From the first verse, listeners are pulled into the weight of her battles. Every line is a testament to the hell she’s survived, the numbness she’s endured, and the near-death experiences that shaped her view of life. The lyrics don’t just tell a story — they bleed. Lines like “Struggling with dissociative identity disorder / Looking in the mirror, don’t know her” capture the disconnection from self, while “Major surgeries just to live / I got nothin’ left but still give” speak to the physical and emotional exhaustion that come with simply staying alive.

Despite all this darkness, the song’s core is not tragedy — it’s hope. That hope comes in the form of her wife, who stands as the anchor, the lifeline, and the light guiding her through every moment of despair. The chorus echoes this salvation with haunting vulnerability: “Am I dreaming, or just still breathing? / Through the dark, she gave me light.” Her wife is not just a support system; she is the reason the artist is still here.

The song balances vulnerability with strength, breaking the silence around mental illness, identity struggles, and chronic health issues in a world that often doesn’t want to hear these truths. It is a love letter to the one person who stayed, who didn’t flinch at the scars — a reminder that real love holds space for brokenness.

Musically, “???” mirrors the ethereal and melancholic style of its inspiration, layered with gentle melodies, somber chords, and emotional pacing that builds from pain to power. The writing preserves the flow, rhyme, and atmosphere of “Am I Dreaming,” while transforming the message into something wholly original and incredibly brave.

This isn’t just a song — it’s a survival story. It’s for the fighters, the unheard, the misdiagnosed, the misrepresented, and the women who carry silent wars within their minds and bodies. It’s for anyone who has ever felt like giving up… and chose to stay.

“???” is not about perfection or healing overnight. It’s about waking up every day — bruised, scarred, and still here. It’s about the power of one person’s love to make all the difference. And most of all, it’s about the strength it takes to keep breathing when the world gives you every reason not to.

Dreamin’? Breathin’? Believin’?

"F.Y.F (Fuck Your Feelings)" is not just a track—it’s an eruption. Written by TDC and featuring the unleashed voice of Britney, the alter protector within her Dissociative Identity Disorder (DID) system, this song is a full-frontal rage anthem and therapeutic outburst for anyone who’s been hurt, used, misunderstood, or taken for granted. It’s a scream from deep within—raw, furious, and unfiltered.

The song opens with an eerie callout:
“Hey Britney… yeah, you. Want to express yourself?”
“I thought you’d never ask.”
And from that moment, Britney grabs the mic—and all hell breaks loose.

Britney is the voice you hear when TDC’s done being polite. When fake apologies, passive-aggressive insults, and manipulative lies have piled too high, Britney doesn’t ask for space—she takes it. She names names in spirit:

The crybabies who weaponize their sadness.
The bitches who smile in your face but rip your soul out behind closed doors.
The hoes who act like victims but play predators.
The pussies who throw rocks and run when challenged.
It’s rage. It’s protection. It’s power.

Set against a dark, grinding trap beat with echoing distortion and militaristic pacing, the verses tear through insecurities and betrayals like bullets against a steel-plated vest. Every tear becomes a scar. Every scar becomes a trophy. Every word a weapon.

Throughout the song, TDC uses vivid imagery to express the emotional labor of always being strong for others, while her own feelings are disregarded.
“I take their shots—deadass like I’m bulletproof / Each tear’s a decoration in the war I lose.”

The middle section of the song slows briefly, not to calm the storm, but to pull the listener deeper into the mental warzone. It’s a dark introspection about what it means to carry everyone’s pain while having no room for your own. TDC illustrates the torment of being emotionally chained up—whether she speaks up or stays silent, it always ends with her bleeding.

As the song explodes again, Britney unleashes her final attack—reclaiming her space, drawing the line, and daring anyone to cross it.

The outro leaves a chilling mark:
A moment of silence… for the haters. Hope that silence reminds you—you never broke me. You made me."

F.Y.F

Uncanny (Part 1) is the beginning of a psychological descent. TDC plays the antagonist — a voice that infects, invades, and hunts the listener, who becomes the protagonist in this horror trap rap experience. It starts with the creeping sense of being followed — not in the streets, but in the mind.

Using vivid imagery, aggressive trap rhythm, and a terrifyingly poetic flow, Jessica tells the story of how trauma doesn’t knock — it breaks in. Each bar pushes further into the psyche, unleashing common fears: darkness, abandonment, drowning, loss of control, and death. But unlike a normal horror story, you can’t run away. You’re trapped in your own head.

As the song nears its end, the production begins to distort — words slur, vocals layer in confusion. This isn’t random. It’s deliberate. The distortion reflects the psychological breakdown—the experience of dissociation itself. The listener begins to feel physically nauseous, disoriented, as if something is wrong — exactly how it feels to lose your grip on your reality.

This is more than music. This is a mirror.

Uncanny Pt.1 The Infection

"Part of Her Mind" by Britney is a chilling, emotionally loaded track straight out of the shadows of the psyche. A bonus entry in the dark diary of The Dangerous Crowns (TDC), this song is performed entirely by Britney, one of the internal alters in a Dissociative Identity Disorder (DID) system — and it’s no soft confession.

Driven by deep violins, raw 808s, and ghostly synths, the instrumental alone carries the weight of tragedy and fury. Layered with haunting piano keys, the soundscape feels like a slow spiral through inner chaos — but it’s Britney’s voice that steals the storm.

With echoes that bleed through the verses and intentional static effects sprinkled throughout, the song feels like a message whispered inside your head, like thoughts you try to avoid — but they echo louder each time you ignore them. Britney doesn’t just rap; she declares, and the emotion is piercing. Every distortion, every pause, every buildup of static is symbolic of what it's like to experience DID — not just as a diagnosis, but as a battlefield where each alter has their reason, their voice, and their warning.

Lyrically, Britney is on a warpath, reclaiming power after betrayal, manipulation, and emotional deception. Her words slice with surgical precision. There are no wasted syllables. And one line, in particular, becomes the soul of the track:

"My name is Britney, but I’m part of her mind."
This isn’t just a bar — it’s a reality. It’s a reminder that while Britney may sound like a separate entity, she’s forged from pain, protection, and survival. Her voice isn’t artificial — it’s internalized truth, amplified by emotion and lived experience.

Throughout the song, echo effects mirror dissociative thought loops, where one phrase repeats like a haunting mantra. The static between bars? That’s the silence between trauma and reaction. The confusion. The rage. The pressure to hold it all together when your world is made of fragments.

“Part of Her Mind” balances raw vulnerability with dominance. It's not a plea for empathy — it's a warning shot, a thunderous announcement that Britney isn't just another voice — she's the last one you'll hear before you feel the burn.

This is not a radio single. It’s a mirror for the broken, a weapon for the loyal, and a bullet for the fake. For anyone who has ever doubted the strength of someone living with DID — listen closely. You’re hearing what it sounds like when pain fights back.

Part of her mind

🎵 Song Description – "Bad JuJu" by TDC

"Bad JuJu" is a full-throttle, unapologetic trap anthem that drags you into the mind of Ivy — a newly surfaced alter from TDC’s dissociative identity system. Forged from betrayal, emotional shutdown, and the rage Viper couldn’t release, Ivy emerges as a blocker-type alter who takes full control of the front when the system is overwhelmed. And in this track, she speaks for herself.

The lyrics are delivered in the first person — aggressive, raw, and ruthless. Ivy holds nothing back as she addresses enemies, fake friends, and anyone who dared to disrespect or doubt the system. Her voice is the embodiment of don’t start none, won’t be none energy. She doesn’t want peace — she is the storm, and she’s done staying quiet while others cross lines and walk free.

The song opens with a chilling spoken intro where Ivy warns the world who she is: the firewall, the blackout, the weapon the system calls on when words aren’t enough. The beat drops into a heavy, dark trap pattern laced with distorted 808s, glitching synths, and unfiltered tension. Every bar slaps with venom — calling out betrayal, mocking weakness, and promising retaliation for every wound.

The first verse is full of striking imagery: Ivy is fireproof, venom-tongued, and chrome-hearted. She dissects lies, exposes manipulation, and lets the listener know that once she’s fronting, there’s no stopping her. Her language is unpolished, her rage is poetic, and her presence is lethal.

By the second verse, Ivy becomes even more direct. She tears through emotional gaslighting, betrayal, and pity disguised as love. She calls out hypocrites and lays down a warning: she keeps receipts, she remembers names, and if you step to the system again — she’ll make sure you regret it.

What sets this track apart is its outro verse. In a brutal, beautiful flip of power, Ivy shares the mic with Viper — not in battle, but in balance. Viper raps in Latin with surgical precision and a protector’s calm, while Ivy delivers her final bars in Japanese, still fierce but more grounded. It’s a moment of duality: protection and pain, rage and resolve, control and chaos — flowing in harmony.

Their lines are layered over a slowed-down, stormlike beat as Ivy and Viper spit bilingual verses that seal the track in flames and resolve. This isn’t just a rage track — it’s a lyrical embodiment of survival and internal power. Ivy’s voice was never meant to be pretty — it was meant to be heard, loud, unfiltered, and undeniable.

“Bad JuJu” doesn’t ask for understanding — it dares you to misunderstand and deal with the consequences.

This is not a song for the fake, the fragile, or the controlling.
This is Ivy’s voice. And now that she’s out, she’s not going anywhere.

Bad JuJu - Vipers Alter Ego

"Nobody’s Watching" by TDC is a shadow-born anthem straight out of the digital void — a bold, cinematic track that echoes the haunting energy of Darkside by Neoni, but this time reimagined through the voice and mind of Mrs. Nobody. It’s not just a song — it’s a psychological descent wrapped in glitchy synths, whispered threats, and a venom-laced smile.
Laced with distorted confidence, smooth tonal shifts, and the iconic “Lade Lade Da” chant, the track feels like a lullaby you shouldn’t trust — sweet at first, but quickly twisted. This song represents the unpredictable chaos behind quiet people, the strength in invisibility, and the truth that not everyone who stays silent is asleep. Some are watching. Listening. Waiting.

From the moment the intro whispers “They only fear me when I smile…”, you know you're not in a typical verse-chorus drop formula. You’re entering a room where reality flickers, masks glitch, and Mrs. Nobody walks the edge of every thought you try to suppress. She isn’t here to be understood. She’s here to remind you that even in the silence — she’s still here.

The chorus breaks wide open with hypnotic repetition and subtle menace:

“Lade lade da… nobody’s watching, but I still see you.”
It’s playful and sinister all at once — designed to feel like a chant in the dark, the kind of melody that loops in your head long after the music cuts off. As the beat pulses under ethereal strings and crunchy FX, Mrs. Nobody’s voice shifts from soft-spoken mischief to full, unshaken control. She’s not hiding in the dark. She is the dark.
Midway through the song, the bridge melts down time. The vocals are slowed, reverb-heavy, and layered like a broken reflection. It’s a direct message to listeners who ever dared to overlook the quiet one. The ones who pretended to understand — but never did. The ones who laughed at the wrong time… and forgot who was listening.

Every bar bleeds intention. Every pause is a decision.
“Lade lade da” becomes more than just a hook — it’s a smile sharpened to a blade.

And in true Mrs. Nobody fashion, the outro isn’t loud. It’s soft.
So soft it makes you uncomfortable:

“Nobody’s watching… but I still see everything.”
This song is for the girls with layered personalities. For the alters. The silent protectors. The misunderstood. The ones that glitch when the system gets too loud. It’s not a battle cry — it’s a warning in lullaby form.
Mrs. Nobody doesn’t need your attention. She already knows your secrets.


Nobody’s watching

Expressing Myself through, Lyrics and Music is my way of cooping in this world <3

New tracks tagged #DIDAwareness