Hiraeth  feat. MELT BOY

Champ (feat. Sean Shyne)

Night On The Planet/demo

GWTF

yessirski dri!! (prod.Hearts)

snow magic time (prod.hump)

KSG4L

Don't pull jerk my chain

Big Q Turn Me Up Part2

DeLo - FLEX [PRODUCED BY BARS] | Official Audio |

A song from our forthcoming album "VEILS" on A Bruised Reed records.
Chorus
Unchain the hymn from the hymnals, make it breathe in the streets,
Anti-fascist, anti-idol—let the meek take the beat.
No empire choir wiretaps the mercy we bring,
Equal image, equal lineage—every heart gets a ring.
Not a wall, not a gallows—just a table and time,
Let the light write the law on every life in the line.

Verse 1
Cold pulpits, gold-gilt motives—ghost oaths in a flag-draped catechism,
Code switches: “vote Christian,” but the quote’s missing love’s activism.
Vast schisms—mass prisons—past isms wrap fascism,
Patch scripture to match fixtures; that’s cash-driven baptisms.
I thread meter with red-letter ethics—no credits for cruel edits,
Rule fetish, tool rhetoric—fear’s anesthetic, school fetish.
They bless ballots like bayonets, playin’ vets against the vagabonds,
Canon-jet canonized cannons—then canonize the Babylon.
I’m anti–idol idolatry, audit the policy, polish the honesty,
Hollow theology falls when the poverty’s calling with prophecy.
Carpenter calculus: parity’s palace is peril to parasites,
Charity’s malice? Nah—charity’s chalice is sharing our daily slice.
Christ-coded, life-loaded—no caste over kin,
If the last get the lift, then the first learn to bend.
I craft inner rhymes like ligatures stitching a limb,
Every line is a lifeline: we’re all equal in Him.

Chorus
Unchain the hymn from the hymnals, make it breathe in the streets,
Anti-fascist, anti-idol—let the meek take the beat.
No empire choir wiretaps the mercy we bring,
Equal image, equal lineage—every heart gets a ring.
Not a wall, not a gallows—just a table and time,
Let the light write the law on every life in the line.

Verse 2
Nation-as-sanctum, sanctified sanctums—sanctions for truth-tellers,
Pews profit on news prophets, tuned to the gloom sellers.
I parse parables out of the marble of marketable sparks,
Turn a sermon to service, turn the bark into larks in the parks.
No throne-bone thrown—stone hearts shown cold? We thaw ‘em with warmth,
Storm norms with a soft form: food, forms, and open-door porches up north.
Metric of ethic: does the rhetoric edit the hungry from headcount?
If yes—bless the exits; if no—let the bread mount.
Grace-driven grit with a bassline bit that bites through the bitter myth,
Razor of Occam in pocket—I’m chopping the toxic and sifting what’s still a gift.
Kingdom as kin-come, in-sum: incomes become in-one,
Sin drum undone when the in-crowd brings the in-shunned.
If the banner bans the broken, then the plan is out of hand;
Real faith flips rank—no thanks to the fear-demand.
I breathe schemes with seam-deep themes—freedom in limb,
Every believer, unbeliever—equal measure of Him.

Bridge
Not a gate, not a grade, not a grade-A sin,
Just a wave when you’re weighed and you wade back in.
If the Name means “room,” make a room that’s wide,
Let the shame fall off like a loose-tied lie.

Drop/Break
Hands up—no salute to the boot or the suit or the fear campaign,
Stand up—let the root of the truth put the proof in the human vein.
Band up—every color, every mother, every other who was shoved aside,
Plan love—let the banner be the manner that we amplify.

Chorus
Unchain the hymn from the hymnals, make it breathe in the streets,
Anti-fascist, anti-idol—let the meek take the beat.
No empire choir wiretaps the mercy we bring,
Equal image, equal lineage—every heart gets a ring.
Not a wall, not a gallows—just a table and time,
Let the light write the law on every life in the line.

Tag/Chant Outro
No throne for the few—just a room for the many,
No crown without care—turn the coffers to plenty.
No fear in the hymn—let the chorus begin,
All equal, all in—every stranger a kin.

Unchained

Have you chopsticks?
https://instagram.com/chopsticks.mob

GWTF

chopsticks🥢