blowing

@pimpinplayaz
@cowbellcult
R.I.P JUNTMANE 

PUBLIC ENEMIES w/DJ HAZYHAZE

Ortus Tempestatis

Produced by https://soundcloud.com/sickydakapoot115

https://soundcloud.com/sweetgraves

Lyrics:

Just fuckin sick in the head
Travis Bickle with a glock how I come for that bread
I ain't gonna stop, Rudy Ridged by the feds
Bombs bout to drop, scorched Earth for the dead
Bad lil thot bout to pop on my bed
Stalkin the opps, Sam Fisher and my vision infrared
Black night darker than my threads
Got em on their knees pleading, bleeding, feeding motherfuckers lead

I said I'm just fuckin sick in the head
Plug walking pimping hoes, smoking drow like my brother Sicky said
Lost my mind on the edge, something bout these lines all the time got me seeing fuckin red
I've gunned down fuckers for less
Stepping up to me and my team MSG gon make a mess
Creep and crawl till the end
Terminal ever since the world free fell off the edge

JUST FUCKIN SICK (Prod. SICKY DA KAPOOT)

Featuring, mixed, and produced by https://soundcloud.com/magigravis

https://soundcloud.com/sweetgraves

Lyrics:

ROTTEN RHETT:
Mean motherfucka Rotten Rhett just had a bad day
Bodies in the streets leave them mobiks rotting where they lay
Buggin off the pills got another shipment on the way
Rigging up devices for the games I wanna fuckin play

Lost half my soul in the bayou, MN to LA
Shit'll get ugly when I pull up with blood coated blades
Man in the mirror I don't recognize his fuckin face
Take some extra time when I'm cleaning up my tools today

Me and Magigravis rest in peace underneath the waves
Freddy vs Jason when we walking out the fuckin lake
Camp Crystal massacre a thousand ghosts will haunt this place
Take a couple trophies to the cabin where my momma stay

MAGIGRAVIS:
курим в Crystal Lake
крикет поджигает фитель
с порохом я бочка
блант взрываю, сукам раздаю по
почкам

полуночно massacre устрою
рою ямы трупам
и мой топот будет тем  последним звуком что услышишь

и вкручу в башку шурупы
да, я шлю всё нахуй
ну а хули, если ты не понял я тот самый DEVIL SHYT фанатик

психопат лунатик
в той палате вкину транки
в наркотанке два бойца
я и Ретт дадим свинца

я словно Иисус, распятье на кресте
как всегда, по пизде вся моя жизнь
и дробью вынесу блядине я мозги 

они оставят след от пятен на холсте
Могильный Маг, я дьявол во плоти
а ты плати душой паскуда, сука

JASON VIVIVI W/ MAGIGRAVIS (PROD. DJ GRAVE MAGE)

witches at black masses

Art, production, and master done by @ar1ma
Feature with @rottenrhett

LYRICS:
Red light day light put you in the fucking ground
Night time tech nines making all the fucking sound
About mines I'ma ride drive by on you fucking clowns
Columbine with a nine shooting in the fucking crowd
See a bunch of cannibals their corpses fill the streets
When I pulled up on they ass they aint want no fucking heat
Got the burner and a stolen plate so I caused a Decimation
Put their asses in a Grave their souls are forsaken
Now Nasty's riding dirty don't know what the fuck I'm handling
Trunk full of bodies now I gotta go and bury them
Get stopped by a cop I'll add another tally mark
Fat fuckers with a badge think they're above the law
Red light day light demons are all around
Night time tech nine the demons make the fucking sound
About mines I'ma ride the Devil pulled up in my town
Columbine with a nine shooting in the fucking crowd.

RHETT LYRICS:
My Sweet Grave full of fuckin freaks getting geeked out
Gotta 8 ball from a stain I don't sleep now
On the prowl, ghost ride whip it don't make sound
Hundred thousand dead orks added to the fucking mound
Nothin fuckin personal until it fucking is
Me and Noah gonna pull up and we'll massacre a bitch
See a Cannibal get animal, my trigger finger itch
Like the Terminator I'll be back I'm gonna get my switch
Grab the AK, get sprayed, Counterstrike shit
Then it's blade play, get slain, trophies for the crib
Little insane in my brain desires from abyss
Got a switchblade in your face, ain't gonna make it quick
My Sweet Grave full of fuckin fiends let the freak out
Gotta 8 ball outta state on the creep now
Fella wanted drama got some problems if you fuck around
Sleeping with the fishes underwater with his arms bound

DEAD CORPSES FT: ROTTEN RHETT (PROD: .ARIMA)

DJ ANDROMANE- SACREMENT

CRACKIN' DOE

Бить женщин это мой стиииимуууул
Я насилую их под сатиииивоооой
Протыкаю их головы мечом
И ебашу им в живот плечом

Она укусила мой член
А мне похуй я просто захавал морфен
Я жестко отпиздил еë
Нехуй было делать дерьмо

Бить женщин это мой стиииимуууул
Я насилую их под сатиииивоооой
Протыкаю их головы мечом
И ебашу им в живот плечом

Обоже я сделал трек
Они чето сделают тоже
Cделают тоже
Обоже я сделал трек
Они чето сделают тоже
Cделают тоже

Да я крутой
Иду домой
Да я отпиздил свою женщину ногой
Да я крутой
Иду домой
Я каждый раз ей говорю полы помой

Бить женщин это мой стиииимуууул
Я насилую их под сатиииивоооой
Протыкаю их головы мечом
И ебашу им в живот плечом

Она укусила мой член
А мне похуй я просто захавал морфен
Я жестко отпиздил еë
Нехуй было делать дерьмо

Бить женщин это мой стиииимуууул
Я насилую их под сатиииивоооой
Протыкаю их головы мечом
И ебашу им в живот плечом

Бить женщин

🔥 Lux Coven’s “Shut It Down” is a Firebomb Sermon from the Church of Chaos

In Shut It Down, Lux Coven delivers a sonic Molotov cocktail — a snarling, unrelenting anthem that fuses rap-metal, screamo, and industrial boom-bap into a full-blown auditory assault. It's both war cry and exorcism, a feverish purge of rage, madness, street memories, and defiant self-mythologizing. The track doesn’t beg for your attention — it takes it by force and smashes it across the pavement.

From the very first “Fuck ‘em up — shut it down,” Coven assumes the role of preacher and punisher, spitting venom with conviction. Every bar is a scalpel. Every scream a sermon. The hook alone is a rallying cry for the ungovernable — something between a mosh pit commandment and a gladiator’s snarl before the first swing lands.
Verses That Swing Like a Switchblade

Verse 1 is all blunt trauma and gritted teeth: “Power tools turn ya ass to molecules” isn’t just hyperbole — it’s a warning. The lines drip with bloodlust, layered with pop culture psychosis, east-coast beach town references, and a flair for theatrical brutality. Think early Slipknot meets Ghetts, but with the DIY venom of a back alley punk prophet. There’s menace in the humor and poetry in the threats — this isn’t mindless aggression, it’s calculated chaos.

Verse 2 sharpens into cinematic satire. Over a boom-bap pocket, Lux balances ego with absurdity — from “vampires here, say goodbye to your youth” to traffic rage and sexual deviance, he weaves the surreal into the all-too-real. The tone flips halfway, melting into a screamo section that feels like the speaker losing grip of his own reality: “It puts the lotion on the skin or it gets the fuckin’ belt!” — a Silence of the Lambs reference twisted into performance art.

Memoirs of a Madman

Verse 3 hits hardest. It's memoir — raw and scabbed over. Sleeping under ramps. Working Blockbuster shifts to pay child support. The beat slows slightly as the verses breathe a little deeper, letting the pain cut sharper. The final scream “SLASHER MOVIE MIND — CUT THROUGH THE BLACKNESS!” feels like both catharsis and climax — not just a metaphor, but a mission statement.

There’s real autobiography underneath the carnage — father trauma, poverty, surveillance paranoia, mental breaks — but it’s buried under layers of mythology and metaphor, told like a horrorcore folk tale. Coven isn’t trying to be relatable — he’s trying to be unforgettable.

Production: Filthy, Fragmented, Ferocious

Distorted guitars bend like sirens through a dying speaker. Breakdowns are timed like trap doors. Screamo elements burst through boom-bap drums with no warning, like PTSD flashbacks mid-bar. The result is intentionally jarring — like channel surfing through a broken brain. Somewhere between Denzel Curry, City Morgue, and Eminem’s 2000-era Slim Shady darkness — but it never feels derivative.

💀 Final Verdict: An Unholy Baptism in Gasoline and Grit

“Shut It Down” isn’t a song. It’s a ritual. Lux Coven has created a chaotic, hyper-aggressive tapestry of underground sound — somewhere between exorcism and execution. It's not polished, it’s primal. It's not perfect, it's possessed. And that’s the point.

This is the soundtrack for those who aren’t looking for permission — they’re looking for the detonator. And Lux just handed it to you.


blowing

Z-0