TickingFuse

keep pushing
keep building
keep breathing

FOLDED

Ⓒ 2025 @PlsDntChase.
All songs, beats, lyrics and recordings are protected under Australian copyright law and officially released through River Run Cartel.
Licensed for distribution with DistroKid and other major platforms.
Unauthorized use, uploads, or bootlegs will be removed and pursued.
This is real copyright, real label business—no exceptions. 🦘ᴮʸ ᴾˡˢᴰⁿᵗᶜʰᵃˢᵉ

Element Bender + ᴮʸ ᴾˡˢᴰⁿᵗᶜʰᵃˢᵉ

[Verse 1]  
Echoes claw the skull's backdoor, fingers slick with yesterday's rot  
Chasin' ghosts that grin like exes, teeth filed sharp on forgotten plots  
Mind's a sewer rat sprint, dodgin' floods of what-ifs gone sour  
Pills rattle like loose change in a coffin, buyin' hours by the hour  
Fists pound the mirror till it spits blood confessions, "You ain't king"  
Crown's a noose of neon lies, swingin' low where the weak hearts cling  
Demons DJ the static, scratchin' tracks of "almost was" on repeat  
Feet drag through tar-pit thoughts, sinkin' slow, no lifeline, no beat  
Rage bubbles up like bad acid, burnin' bridges to bone-dry ash  
Last laugh's a wheeze from the void, echoin' "crash, you fool, crash"  

[Chorus]  
Shadows slither, swallow whole, no mercy in the swallow's throat  
Chasin' tails in black-hole basements, where the light forgot to show  
Yell till lungs cave, "Come get me!"—they just laugh and let you choke  
Mind's meat grinder, churnin' dreams to dust, one hopeless poke  
Shadows, shadows, pull me under, drown the fire in your ink  
Chasin', bleedin', never winnin', just the brink and bitter brink  
Echo back my broken howls, make the crowd scream it thin  
Shadows win, shadows win, let the spiral spin us in  

[Verse 2]  
Woke up tastin' rust and regret, tongue thick with unsaid goodbyes  
Eyes like cracked phone screens, scrollin' scrolls of alibis that die  
Friends fade to pixels, ghosts in group chats, typin' "we good?" lies  
Bottle's bottom mocks the promise, "One more swig, then you fly"  
But wings are wet rags, clipped by doubts that nest in ribcage cracks  
Nights stack like unpaid bills, interest pilin' panic attacks  
Whispers from the wallpaper peel, "Quit pretendin', you're the hack"  
Laughter's a luxury tax, paid in tears that streak the track  
Fury's a flat tire on the freeway, spinnin' wild, no traction left  
Just skid marks of "shoulda" leadin' to the cliff where hope went deaf  

[Chorus]  

[Verse 3]  
Threads of sanity fray like cheap socks, trippin' over toe-stub truths  
Youth's a scam artist, sold me futures wrapped in fool's proof  
Now I'm pawnin' memories for matches, lightin' fuses to the fuse  
Boom—scattered shards of "me" rain down, nothin' left but the blues  
Rivals in my head hall, circlin' like vultures on a vibe  
Pickin' clean the carcass of confidence, leavin' gristle to survive  
Scream at ceilings stained with smoke rings from cigars of "why try?"  
They stare back blank, judgin' silent, "Boy, you're just another die"  
Twist the knife of nostalgia slow, carve out chunks of what burned bright  
Left with embers that mock the hunger, starvin' fierce in endless night  

[Bridge]  
Breathe it in, the rot-rose scent, petals wiltin' on the vine  
One step from the edge, toes curl 'round nothin', spine's a crooked line  
What if the chase ends empty? Just a loop of "you again"  
Fists unclench, drop the fight—let the dark twins pull you in  
But nah, spark flares wild, veins pump venom, "Not yet, you pricks!"  
Rage rebirth, a glitch in the gloom, teeth bared for the fix  
Shadows scatter for a sec, then regroup, thicker, meaner twist  
Cycle spins eternal, suck the soul dry with a kiss  

[Verse 4]  
Barrel down the brain-storm alley, thunder thoughts crack like whips  
Lips spit lightning bolts of spite, zappin' doubts to smoky strips  
Exes haunt the rearview, smirks say "Told ya, kid, you slipped"  
Grip the wheel white-knuckled, swervin' 'round the pit they dug quick  
Pockets full of IOUs from gods who ghosted on the deal  
Heal? That's a punchline for the privileged, feel the raw, unpeel  
Walls close in like bad trips, graffiti screams your failures loud  
Crowd it out with curses chained, a torrent tearin' through the cloud  
Endgame's a whisper: "Fold now, save the ache"—but fuck that plea  
I'll chase these bastards to the marrow, burn the whole damn tree

Shadows Win

Descend into the eerie haze of “The Talking Dead” a dark seance trap hip-hop ritual pulsing at 75-80 BPM. This track conjures a subterranean vibe with haunting trap beats, spectral synths, and slow-rolling bass that mimics the echo of ancient catacombs—perfect for invoking spirits without overwhelming the raw, introspective flow.
Lyrics delve into the disillusionment with the living dead: society sleepwalking through existence, filling heads with illusions while ghosts of the past reveal truths about power, greed, and elite deceptions. From seance circles channeling vengeful spirits to critiques of hegemony and monopoly, it’s a sonic exorcism urging you to resurrect the unfed parts of your soul amid shadows and tricks of the mind.
If you’re drawn to atmospheric hip-hop that blends occult vibes with social commentary—like a fusion of clipping.‘s experimental edge and early Travis Scott’s trap mysticism—light a candle and dive in. This ain’t just music; it’s a ceremony for the awake.
Lyrics snippet: “Lost hope in the living Everyone talking like they’re already dead. Too many y’all walking, talking, no meaning, That ain’t living If you never make it out your head. In the catacombs of your mind, Only you can find what was never fed.”
#DarkTrap #SeanceHipHop #OccultRap #AtmosphericBeats #UndergroundHipHop #SpiritualAwakening

The Talking Dead [Explicit]

Low fire, long breath.
Athanor hums in the chest.
Lampblack lungs, winter tongue,
watch the ash confess.

Solvet, softly,
Coagula blaze, but a patient kiln.
Soot to soap, guilt to lye,
let the cleansing in.

Soot marks the places my silence slept,
coal script under ribs where the frost was kept.
Old heat folded in iron skin,
a forge remembers where it’s been.
Salt is witness, smoke is vow,
mercury moves like a now within now.
I don’t beg the dark to go, I bid it melt,
stir the slag of what I felt.
Fuligo, fulcrum; pressure, poise,
quiet labor, fewer noise.
Not thunder, not spectacle, just breath and heat,
iron snow falling on the street.
Burn what you bore; smelt it to light,
fold and refold till temper is right.
Quench the blade in the truth you own:
if it cuts, it’s grown.

Through the sootfold I go, slow,
hands black, but the pulse aglow.
Little by little the soul will know:
even the dark can snow.

Sot and snow, let the heart lay low,
eira on the coal till the embers glow.
Sot and snow, slow bright, slow true,
from gloom to goleuni, I’m coming through.

I sift old names like cinders in a pan,
keep what warms, let go what never ran.
The bright melt hums where the chill once fed,
a whisper rising through what’s dead.
Alembic patience, drip by drip,
habit unthreads, old skin slips.
I unlearn the metal that loves my rust,
oil the hinge of a stubborn trust.
The sootfold taught me to hold the weight,
the dawngrain whispers: wait, just wait.
Heartfire flickers like straw in sun,
you don’t rush what must be done.
Not a sainted shine, not a spotless hymn,
just clean enough to begin again.

Lampblack to ink, ink to oath,
oath to breath, breath to growth.

Snow on the forge, and the hiss says stay,
every flake is a way to pray.
Not for a miracle, only a field,
where ash turns soil and the soil can yield.

Sot and snow, let the heart lay low,
eira on the coal till the embers glow.
Sot and snow, slow bright, slow true,
from gloom to goleuni, I’m coming through.

No crown, no stone, just knuckles and tone,
a steady metronome of bone on bone.
Burn what you bore, smelt it to light,
carry the small flame into night.
When the breath shows white and the road is thin,
open the door and walk back in.

Soot to soap.
Snow to hope.
Hand to heart.
Start.

sot and snow

Reason To Survive (Ambient Cover)

Blacking out sunday

Phantom-Streaked Veins pulse with spectral venom. Ghostly whispers, heavy 808s, and raw dark trap chaos converge in this haunting track.

Phantom-Streaked Veins

Ramadan

napoleon dynamite

making at least a song every week until I quit my job
wizdfromwest
wlzd@hotmail.co.uk

napoleon dynamite

WIZD

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