Vandal Eve spits fire through broken mirrors; Lucid answers like a ghost trapped in reverb. The beat hits like metal on bone — all distortion, confession, and adrenaline. It’s not about love or hate; it’s about who bleeds first.

Smile so sweet, it’ll rot your teeth

Welcome to the tent of pain

Silence falls when I walk in the room

“FLY VS SPIDER” is a Silk & Circuitry industrial trap war cry for the neurodivergent, trauma-forged, and self-rebuilt. It’s about the moment you realize you’ve grown six legs just to crawl out — and now you face a choice: evolve into a spider, spinning webs like the ones that trapped you… or grow wings and tear through the sky.

The beat chimes like steel bones on concrete. The rhythm crawls, then flies. This is the metaphor fully loaded: you either repeat the cycle or rip it open.

This is for the ones who refuse to become what hurt them.

Rise. Choose. NeuroSpice engaged.


FLY VS SPIDER

BLOKK presenta INFIERNO, un viaje entre la rabia, el desahogo y la locura interior.
Una mezcla de dark trap y glitch, con flows cambiantes, gritos del alma y barras que queman como fuego.
No es solo una canción: es una confesión desde las profundidades, donde el dolor se convierte en energía y el caos en arte.
Hecho desde el fondo, con alma, sin filtros.

🔥 “BLOKK – INFIERNO”
⚡ Estilo: Hell Trap / Glitch Trap / Underground
💀 Sonido: ZXMYR x Duki x Falke 912 x $UICIDEBOY$
🎧 Grabado desde el corazón del fuego

#blokk #infierno #darktrap #helltrap #glitchtrap #undergroundtrap #traplatino #emotionaltrap #painmusic #latintrap

infierno

BLOKK presenta DTD, un viaje interno entre el insomnio, la ansiedad y la búsqueda de sentido en medio del caos.
Un tema de dark trap glitchy, lleno de texturas rotas, bajos distorsionados y una voz que suena como si saliera desde el fondo del alma.
Este no es solo un track — es una confesión, un desahogo, un grito atrapado entre la rabia y la calma.

🎧 “BLOKK – DTD”
⚡ Estilo: Dark Trap / Glitch / Underground
💀 Sonido: ZXMYR x Duki x $UICIDEBOY$
🔥 Prod: (agrega el nombre del beatmaker si quieres)

#blokk #dtd #darktrap #glitchtrap #traplatino #undergroundtrap #emotionaltrap #painmusic #latintrap

Soft lights on the table where the stories lie
Silver forks reflect shadows of what we hide
The napkin’s stained but the truth’s still plain
We take a seat in silence, we carry the chain

Mother pours the tea, father clears his throat
The tablecloth holds memories of every note
Tâches on the linen like our names carved deep
Every mark a secret we promised to keep
Grandma softly humming in the corner of her gaze
She knows the history we treat like holidays
Kids laughing loud but the mood stays tight
We swallow the past though it sits in plain sight
Older voices whisper in rooms down the hall
Unsaid resentments decorating the wall
We pass the plates but not the words unspoken
We wear forgiveness thin, the fabric’s broken
The gravy flows easy, the pain stays thick
We toast to the future but the past still sticks
The napkin’s soaked but we don’t wipe the stain
Because the story’s ours and we own the pain

Tablecloth stains, they name our names
Secrets we never wash, echoes of old games
We dine in the hush, we dine in the ache
Generations seated where the silence takes
Tablecloth stains, they name our names
Legacy of quiet wars, never seen in the frames
We lift our glasses but we know the cost
In the theatre of smiles we drown what’s lost

Dad clears his throat and adjusts the light
Pretends the past is gone though it haunts the night
Cousins swap plates, avoiding the glance
The stain on the cloth stays in its trance
We’re heirs of unresolved, bearers of the hush
We dress the wound in laughter, rush the blush
Every toast’s a cover for something unsaid
Every smile a marker of what we fled
Mother touches the rim of her wine glass slow
Her eyes wander to a place we don’t go
Kids draw pictures of house and home
But walls built of silence won’t let us roam
The napkin catches drops but never the tears
We fold it each year, respect the fears
Still the cloth shows signs of the fights we lost
Sending signals in the wrinkles at the cost

Tablecloth stains, they name our names
Secrets we never wash, echoes of old games
We dine in the hush, we dine in the ache
Generations seated where the silence takes
Tablecloth stains, they name our names
Legacy of quiet wars, never seen in the frames
We lift our glasses but we know the cost
In the theatre of smiles we drown what’s lost

In the basement boxes old letters lie
“Sorry” never written, just passed us by
Broken phrases between the lines of ease
We hide the scars under the family breeze
Footsteps echo in rooms where we never walked
Voices paused in love but the silence talked
The fabric folds keep every remnant there
We watch the dinner end but the burden stays bare
We hold the napkin, we sniff the air
The stain’s not cleaned, it’s too aware
Generational muteness built on polite lies
We lift our forks but the truth don’t rise

Tablecloth stains, they name our names
Secrets we never wash, echoes of old games
We dine in the hush, we dine in the ache
Generations seated where the silence takes
Tablecloth stains, they name our names
Legacy of quiet wars, never seen in the frames
We lift our glasses but we know the cost
In the theatre of smiles we drown what’s lost

Lights dim slow, plates moved away
The stains remain where we once prayed
We fold the cloth, keep the scars concealed
Tablecloth stains, the truth unrevealed

Tablecloth Stains

Another November, same dinner, same seat
Leaves fall outside while inside we repeat
Clock strikes midnight, the calendar glows
We sit at the table but the change never shows

New year’s whisper but the mood stays thick
Same faces around, same old rhetoric
We raise our forks, toast the “better tomorrow”
While the ledger of fear goes deeper in sorrow
Plates stacked high but the hope gets small
The system rewinds while we dance the fall
We fill our cups with the promise of light
But the walls push back when the day meets night
Another calendar page turns, the chairs align
But the memory of change left the scene behind
We talk of progress, we map out the route
But the engine stalls while we’re singing the shout
Same table set, but the seats feel cold
Same story told, no new chapter unfolds

New year, same table, the cycle won’t break
History slow-motion, the same give-and-take
Another November, we face the same view
Change on the outside, but inside we’re used

We count the days but the ledger looks worn
Each step forward just rewinds the thorn
The voices say “rise up”, the system plays calm
We nod in the theatre while ignoring the alarm
The chair beside me holds the ghost of last year
We talk of the future but we choke on the fear
The same fights resurfaced, same scars unseen
We polish the table while the cracks stay keen
The menu’s printed fresh, the design’s new
But the taste of the struggle remains the issue
We ask for renewal, we whisper “we’ll start”
Yet the cycle loops tight in the core of our heart

New year, same table, the cycle won’t break
History slow-motion, the same give-and-take
Another November, we face the same view
Change on the outside, but inside we’re used

Calendar flips, we parade in the lights
But the hunger within doesn’t easily fight
We stack our dreams like we stack the plates
But some hunger’s deeper than the feast can sate
The system reclines in a comfortable pose
We march in the band while the engine slows
Another November, the leaves drift down
But we’ve been here before in this tired town
We lift the glass, we whisper the vow
But the mirror shows the cracks in the brow
The same fight, same table, same endgame set
And we’re still waiting for the debt to be met

New year, same table, the cycle won’t break
History slow-motion, the same give-and-take
Another November, we face the same view
Change on the outside, but inside we’re used

Another November, the chair still unsold
We sit, we wait, while the story’s told
The season returns, the cycle remains
Same table set, same silent chains

Another November

NIGHTLIFE (prod. cliwa)

Silk & Circuitry throws a brick into the cycle — and the machine doesn’t just break, it moans.

This track is industrial trap at its most unhinged: steel shuddering, water hitting hot circuitry, and a drum shaking like it’s confessing sins it never meant to have.
The brick isn’t just rebellion — it’s impact, pressure, weight — forcing the machine to feel everything it was built to ignore.

You can hear it in the metal grinding.
You can feel it in the spin climbing too fast.
And buried in the glitch static are those breathy, involuntary sounds — the kind a machine makes when it’s pushed past design and straight into desire.

This is a song about a system built to bleach you out, drown your voice, and keep you on repeat…
but instead you become the force that makes it tremble, gasp, and lose control.

Dirty.
Mechanical.
Dangerously intimate.

In the end, the cycle doesn’t break —
it gives in.


Brick In The Washing Machine

Right Now Im Smoking - Instrumental prod. ronin900

swag emperor (intro)

199X is a new-wave trap EP blending rage energy, Opium-influenced production, and smooth baby-voice melodies. Inspired by underground sounds like Ken Carson, Destroy Lonely, Yeat, and the modern rage scene, the project mixes distorted 808s, dark atmospheres, clean melodies, and fast-paced flows. Every track is designed for late-night energy, motion, and futuristic aesthetics.

TRACKLIST:

BOOT ME IN

DESIGNER

NO CHOICE

STAY IN MY LANE

VVS

RIDE WITH ME

Let me know which track hits the hardest.
EP: 199X

NO CHOICE

RIDE WITH ME

STAY IN MY LANE

DESIGNER

BOOT ME IN

The entire sound is in my hands. I write cyber poetry, produce, and compose every track ready for Immersive 3D. Every beat is crafted for spatial and next-gen headphones.
Intimate lyrics, total immersion, every track.

For 30 years I kept unfinished demos to myself, never letting them out. Now I finish what I start and release it the moment it’s alive.

I use every tool available, human or machine, as an instrument.
Technology doesn’t replace creativity. It expands it.

🕸️ Silk & Circuitry 🧠⚡

Welcome to the tangled thread between trauma and transcendence.
This is where music becomes a mirror—reflecting the fractures, the fight, and the fire.
We don’t just make beats. We build bridges. Between pain and purpose.

Here, recovery isn’t a quiet thing.
It’s a war cry wrapped in melody,
a healing ritual whispered through circuitry,
a love letter to those who feel too much in a world that rewards those who feel nothing.

Every track is stitched with intent:
🕯️ To hold space for the broken
⚖️ To call out control masked as care
🧬 To challenge the narcissists who built their webs in our minds
🛠️ And to offer tools—not just songs—for doing what’s right when the cost is everything.

Silk & Circuitry is for the ones who walk away from the web
and grow wings instead.

This is art as resistance.
This is trauma turned frequency.
This is the ghost in your machine, learning how to feel.



New tracks tagged #Experimental Trap