Produced by Lu Balz
Rite Hook's "From The Wrong" Album Available here: 
https://itunes.apple.com/us/album/from-the-wrong/id738139005


Rite Hook "It Ain't Easy" (Feat. Vinnie Paz & Slaine"

Hed PE, Voices

jaytoanti - saved me p. shxrkz + yonvh

*“This just in—newly declassified files show…”
“Mind control… Remote viewing… Unauthorized tests on civilians…”
“You were never supposed to see this…”

Yo…
They fed the public sedatives, diluted truths, polluted roots,
From Bluebird to Artichoke, chokes like a noose.
Documents declassified, attack under black bars leaving funeral veils,
Truth’s on microfilm—printed with blood from the fingernails of a jail cells falsely convicted system fail.
MK-Ultra, torture under the guise of research,
Psych ward priests with scalpels under bleach shirts.
They dosed veterans, women, kids and mental patients,
No consent, just chemicals—unwritten damnations without hesitation.
CIA paid off professors like an Ivy League Judas,
Cooked minds in labs colder than Judas’s uterus.
Eighty subprojects hidden inside the phrase “defense,”
But this was an offence on the peoples soul, in the name of dollars and cents.
You Can’t erase the suspense.
They tried erasin’ the tapes, shreddin’ the trails, it’s a fact to undress
But ghosts live inside of the ink under the stencil like the choked dead from led inside of your pencil.
I studied the documents like Psalms from a sick gospel,
They weaponized the mind and fought with the thought as if it were a fossil.

(Eyes wide open, watch ‘em bleed for what they buried)
(Pray for the children they silenced and buried)

I seen Stargate documents—they trained psychics to spy,
Remote viewers trackin’ secrets through the mind’s third eye.
Ingo Swann drawin’ Saturn rings from a locked basement,
CIA amazed—like fate wrote equations in stasis.
Joseph McMoneagle trippin’ through astral terrains,
Detailin’ Soviet bunkers like dreams with chains.
Call it pseudoscience? The facts don’t blink,
When the gov funded it for decades—you think?
They mapped consciousness like cartographers of trauma,
Puppeteers in suits sellin’ fear in exchange for honor.
Project Grill Flame, Army intel in a séance,
Deflectin’ light from truth like it’s all ambiance.
They opened minds like caskets, groped neurons like assets,
Encrypted emotion like code in a war of access.
It ain’t fiction, it’s physics rebranded for slaughter,
Our taxes built the altars as they offered up our sons and daughters.

You ever feel watched when you dream?
That’s history breathin’ through you…
It wasn’t paranoia—
It was a preview.

(Eyes wide open, watch ‘em bleed for what they buried)
(Pray for the children they silenced and buried)

There’s a file marked 10-22, about a boy from Detroit,
Given acid at twelve, voice crackin’, no choice.
They watched him spiral—heart rate wired to a graph,
Every scream was a line item, science bathed in a laugh.
Where’s the justice? Where’s the God in this gospel of steel?
When they forged a cathedral outta needles and pills?
I write these rhymes like indictments etched in embers
For every child they erased but thought we’d never remember.

Pray for the children they silenced and buried

(There’s a file marked 10-22, about a boy from Detroit,
Given acid at twelve, voice crackin’, no choice.
They watched him spiral—heart rate wired to a graph,
Every scream was a line item, science bathed in a laugh.
Where’s the justice? Where’s the God in this gospel of steel?
When they forged a cathedral outta needles and pills?
I write these rhymes like indictments etched in embers
For every child they erased but thought we’d never remember.)

Pray for the children they silenced and buried

Silenced and buried

“They said the money’s gone… so how do they fund their wars?.”

Ok sit down and pay attention 
Remember you are more important than a tax bracket.
As I spit for the children whose chemo gets canceled,
While Parliament’s draped in suits made from a scandal.
They bail out the banks and fund yachts for elites,
While the Ronald McDonald House got beggars in the street.
Help me find the justice? Talking to the parents of Kids with IVs in they veins,
While executives just did a rip, snorting the government budget in lines off a the financial gains.
Trudeau doubled debt, talking about a green revolution,
But the pipelines that bled red,is not in the eco solutions.
Four hundred billion blown, with nothin’ to show for it
Except CERB frauds in the audits and taxes tow more for it
funding jails more than the places where miracles happen,
Convicts sleep warm while terminal kids ration the blankets.
A child with cancer needs five meds just to breathe, better have insurance,
As a convict gets three hots and a cot for free.  I hardly believe the currents.
This ain’t hyperbole—check the ledgers, the math’s vicious,
The nation’s bleeding hearts while they feed the malicious.
Money laundered through loopholes, troubled with, like Vegas slots.
As nurses beg for raises workin’ double shifts in trauma spots.

“They fund the prisons, forget the tears,
Raise our taxes, ignore our fears.
Sick kids suffer, the suits still grin,
While we drown in debt they designed a system to win.”
(Blood money flows while the innocent fade)
(No justice in budgets where compassion goes unpaid)

Trudeau talkin’ climate, flyin’ jets to Bali,
While the homeless form tents down every alley.
We got veterans with PTSD sleepin’ in snow,
While tax-funded thugs in cellblocks grow.
They raised GST, carbon tax got stacked,
Yet the opioid crisis still runs off the track.
We lost more youth to fentanyl than to war,
But where’s the memorials, the public uproar?
This system ain’t broken—it’s built like this,
Where lobbyists write policy behind velvet scripts.
They fund “inclusion” ads worth millions of paper,
But reject grants for children needin’ lifesaving vapors.
The math’s satanic—Lucifer in a ledger,
More spent on prisons than pediatric measures.
Your tax pays for walls, guards, and parole,
But not for the kid who just wants to grow old.
They call it “democracy,” but I call it a scam,
When charity gets crumbs and corruption gets lamb.

“They fund the prisons, forget the tears,
Raise our taxes, ignore our fears.
Sick kids suffer, the suits still grin,
While we drown in debt they designed a system to win.”

“They told us budgets reflect our values—
So how can you tell me what it means
 when kids die waiting for surgery 
But murderers eat three meals a day
On taxpayer-funded trays?”

No justice in budgets where compassion goes unpaid

The cost of compassion

“Children crying in the silence of the system’s breath…
Sirens wail, but nobody listens to death…”

Yo, listen.
I was born with a bullet in my cradle’s hymn,
First breath echoing the echo of a fatal sin,
Mama bled in the hospital bed, left to die,
While the rich took a tax break and televised a lie—
See the headlines read, “Progress,” but the ghetto’s still a project,
“Welfare queens” while billionaires inject stock profits.
Father was a ghost, not a phantom—he vanished,
When the State gave his fate a mandatory disadvantage.
He was drafted by the system, bled in ‘Nam in the jungle,
Came home to cold stares, no therapy, just a muzzle.
They called it freedom, but it feels more like a fee-dumb,
Where the free die young and the truth gets beat numb.
I drew breath in graffiti tags on bricks in decay,
Where the preacher held a Glock and still told us to pray.

When children cry, the echoes rot the sky…
Politicians lie, while the bullets multiply…
We scream but they muffle the sound with cash,
Broken mirrors in the valley where the shadows clash…
We ain’t livin’, just surviving the breath,
In a world that don’t listen ‘til we rhyme about death…

“Children crying in the silence of the system’s breath…
Sirens wail, but nobody listens to death…”

They build prisons like schools—same architects,
Paint the cell walls beige, call it “order and respect.”
The cops got quotas, so they quote us in chalk,
Outline our future before we even learn to walk.
The 13th Amendment is a loophole contract,
Where slavery’s still legal if the label says “convict.”
Reagan sold crack while his wife just said “no,”
Then locked us up when the product hit skid row.
Fast forward to Clinton, mandatory minimums,
More Black men in chains than there were in the Jim Crow continuum.
Bush made billions off war, oil-drillin’ the poor,
While we buried sons who signed up ‘cause they were too broke to ignore.
Obama gave us hope, but the drones flew harder,
And Trump was a tantrum thrown by America’s father.
Now Biden’s at the podium, whisperin’ the same tale—
Different mask, same plague, different suit, same jail.

“Children crying in the silence of the system’s breath…
Sirens wail, but nobody listens to death…”

“We fight each other over crumbs, while kings dine on carcass.
We’re the heartbeat of the earth—but they treat us heartless.
Don’t ask me why I scream in rhyme—I’m a product of trauma,
Of a system that hugs you with one hand, and strangles you with the other.”

Now my mirror talks back, calls me coward in code,
Says I’m complicit every time I let the anger implode.
My bars ain’t just bars—they’re the blueprint for freedom,
But I’m trapped in a booth where my truth can’t feed ‘em.
I’m a paradox: peace-seeker with a warlike mind,
Tryna decode the signs while society’s blind.
PTSD from the newsfeed, mentally bruised,
When they treat our culture like a canvas they can abuse

“Children crying in the silence of the system’s breath…”

Nobody listens to death

Freestyle battle beats 99

Hook
With a slip a the tongue my mission begun ‘til I finish n’ won, my sinister song tightens the noose of ministers hung,
Carvin’ “rapture” in bitches I rung, I’m canonically mythical in habitual rituals typically cynical rippin the pages a bibles sleepin with bad nuns first with the fist grippin the  pistols handle and stickin the barrel til the tip a my handguns Laryngeal slippin Tracheal hittin the top of your black lungs gettin physical like your in a clinical trial i’m a lyrical pyro igniting the spark inside you til your miserable eye goes sky high along with your eyebrows and elbows N’ i go literally viral like a black sun. airborne when i go for the title.
I am your idol pray to me like mad reruns cuz when we come it’s a street funk leaving you beat fucked beef cake more like a beef cunt heat wave stream steam from your seams like a heat gunt. Pussy freak punk you can keep drunk while i feed your mom my third eye like a conformed monk.


Hook

I crush ivory scripture with cuspids in cryptic positions,
Dens glisten like weapons, the breath of death’s dentist is risen,
Odontolith visions calcified with cold catechism,
Bicuspid incisions twist victims with precision and rhythm,
Gnasher wrath in gnathic grasps, I spit in Molaric hymns,
Chompers chokin’ on trauma, grindin’ sins in phantom limbs,
I’m the Odontophage eatin’ fangs of fallen kings,
With tricuspid daggers embedded in what silence sings,
Talon scripture flickers every bar’s a venom kiss,
Gnashin’ jaws in exorcisms where apocalypse exists,
My odontic rites ignite like phosphor from a bitten priest,
Spittin’ talonic syllables through dentures of deceased,
Tearin’ truth from out the gnathos, left the chorus oozin’ grief,
Gumlines cry in agony my verses speak with broken teeth,
Cuspid-crossed confessional, crowning chaos in belief,
Dens of demons grind in rhythm, chantin’ through the blood beneath.

Ayo
I spit oozequakes from the mud-veins of chthonic catacombs,
My glabella twitchin’ as I murmur noegenesis tomes,
With a scripturient itch that flicks like bruxism tones,
I peregrinate through zugzwang zones in mumpsimus homes.

Got a macrosmatic nose for crapulence—sniff sins in the air,
With a groke on my trail, hunger heavy in stare.
They suffer clinomania, layin’ flat in despair,
While I dance in psithurism, moonlight in my hair.

I’m that nyctophile, hiræth-ridden, tongue slick with velleity,
Cursed with aphantasia, still envisionin’ hell’s deity.
Droppin’ defenestration dreams on your little quiré of reality,
My ultracrepidarian enemies talk without vitality.

Like a dactylion twitch I’m precise when I twitch,
Slip a snollygoster switchblade through your soul’s darkest glitch,
My aura’s furfuraceous, flakin’ ancient myth,
With a yōnic sigil burnt inside a demon’s kiss.

Feel the tyrotoxism rot, I’m servin’ cursed charcuterie,
From a pilgarlic priest’s skull brimming with blasphemy.
In a nudiustertian vision I saw respair’s brief breath,
Right before dysania dragged me to bed with death.

The zabernism in me cracks bones with autotomy,
Lizards lose tails, I lose friends for lobotomies.
I’m a pogonotrophic beast with a pogonophobic army,
Dressed in blood-writ limerence, beggin’ to harm me.

Zugunruhe shakes me when seasons shift strange,
Writin’ psithurism psalms on the edge of deranged.
A wamble in my gut predicts your funeral flames,
While I spill a tittynope of hope in these games.

My spit so cymotrichous, flows wave like fate,
Twistin’ syllables so sharp it make snollygosters quake.
Stuck in aboulia, choices vanish like smoke,
While I jirble venomous wisdom through the gaps I evoke.

They call me agelast, no joy in my wrath,
Just lethologica lips tryna trace a bloodbath.
Eyes like xanthodonts, grinnin’ golden and grim,
In a groke’s silhouette lurkin’ just past the brim.

Chork echoes when I walk in a room,
Shadowed by omphaloskepsis, starin’ into doom.
My verses? Quomodocunquize schemes built to consume
I’m the xylophilous ghost that carves coffins from gloom

Kiss the ring

In the making entertainment

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