#title "Psycho Philosophy Boogie" #bpm 170 #key E minor #genre psychobilly, EDM, horror surf, slap rock #mood rebellious, chaotic, tongue-in-cheek, hyperactive #structure Intro / Verse1 / Verse2 / Interlude / Verse3 / Verse4 / Outro #instruments slap upright bass (lead), Gretsch-style electric guitar, EDM kick drum, horror B-movie organ, glitch FX #drums EDM-style four-on-the-floor kick, no acoustic drums #synth retro synth FX, horror organ stabs #bass slap upright bass, fast ghost-note runs #vocals male lead, aggressive and sarcastic tone [Intro – Kick thump. Organ hum. Bass slaps rise.] #chords [Em] – [Em] – [B7] – [Em] I tried to be good. They tried to be wise. Now they’re preachin’ again... and I ain't nice. Let’s go. [Verse 1 – Socrates] #chords [Em] – [Em] – [D] – [Em] – [C] – [B7] – [Em] – [Em] Socrates say, “Know thyself” — But he don’t know me, or my mental health. Told me to seek some deeper truth... So I shoved his scrolls in a blender booth. He asked too much, just questions and whys, So I slapped my bass, blew his toga to the sky! "Epistemology"? Man, bite my strings — Your dialectic's got no swing. [Verse 2 – Marx] #chords [Em] – [Em] – [D] – [Em] – [C] – [B7] – [Em] – [Em] Karl came growlin’, “You’re class-deceived — Alienated, lost, naïve!” He waved his beard like a crimson flag, Preachin’ ‘bout capital and bourgeois drag. I said, “Comrade, step off my scene — Your theory’s old, and your coat ain’t clean!” I sold my soul at a rockabilly show, Now I’m rich with rhythm, you just got flow. [Slap Bass Solo – Interlude, Wild upright slap solo with ghost notes, hammer-ons, harmonics, EDM kick keeps stomping underneath. Horror FX swirl behind.] Thump, crack, slap, rattle—groove unhinged. [Verse 3 – Buddha] #chords [Em] – [Em] – [D] – [Em] – [C] – [B7] – [Em] – [Em] Buddha sat still, eyes full of calm, Said “Let go, child, find inner balm.” But I got rage, and riffs in my chest — His lotus pose made me feel possessed! I set his incense on fire with a grin, Then rode my bass through Nirvana’s din. Satori? Nah, I got slap salvation. No detachment — just pure vibration! [Verse 4 – Confucius] #chords [Em] – [Em] – [D] – [Em] – [C] – [B7] – [Em] – [Em] Confucius bowed, said “Respect your kin — Follow the rites, stay neat within.” But I paint my walls with neon spit, And family dinners? I blew that bit. He wrote five books, I wrote one riff — And mine makes heads bang off a cliff! I toast tradition with gasoline, Then dance in robes like a psycho fiend. [Outro] #chords [Em] – [G] – [B7] – [Em] – [Em] (fade out with distortion) So next time a wise man comes to teach... I’ll plug in, turn up, and slap 'im off the beach. This ain't no temple, no classroom bore — It’s bass, blood, sweat, and a throbbin’ floor. Backtalk, baby. That's my creed. Truth with a tremolo. Slap it, and speed.
