KEEP IT 100 [track: dark Memphis rap, trap metal, deathcore, djent, cinematic horror trap, 150 BPM, F minor] [Intro | pitched-down whisper] They see dark And think evil. Nah. Dark is where I learned How to see. Fraud? Fuck no. I keep it one hundred. My conscience Ain’t turned off. [Verse 1 | low Memphis triplet flow] I seen numbers get moved when nobody watched, Dates get replaced and the signatures swapped. Same damn book, but the story kept changing— Depends who was reading and who did the paging. Ink look clean, but the sequence is filthy. Smile in my face while they swear they ain’t guilty. “Everybody does it”—that’s how they excuse it, Like a crowd makes it right when the whole crowd abuses it. Keep that poison away from my name. I don’t need dirty cash—I need truth in the frame. Rather lose every dollar than loosen my spine. Rather starve with the facts than get rich off a lie. I’m dark, motherfucker—I never said evil. There’s a line in the dirt; I can still fucking see it. I walk through the shadows with both eyes open. Don’t need counterfeit proof to explain why I’m broken. I’ve been low. Been broke. Been pushed to the edge. Still never sold somebody weaker for bread. [Pre-Chorus | aggressive rap → scream] Offer me gold. Offer me fame. Promise me heaven If I play your game. But if winning means My word has to break— KEEP IT! I’D RATHER WALK THROUGH THE FLAMES! [Chorus | shouted rap hook, scream doubles] I KEEP IT ONE HUNDRED EVEN IN THE DARK! I DON’T NEED FRAUD TO PROVE WHO WE ARE! Call me twisted. Call me cold. But my conscience ain’t something I fucking sold. I’M DARK! NOT EVIL! GET THAT SHIT STRAIGHT! I’D RATHER LOSE CLEAN THAN WIN BEING FAKE! [Post-Chorus | gang chant] ONE HUNDRED! No switch in the code. ONE HUNDRED! My name ain’t for sale. [Verse 2 | heavy internal-rhyme rap] Funny how greed makes deceit sound legal— Put a tie on a lie and it flies past people. Change one number, move one date, Lose one page, call that shit a mistake. Then another. Then another. Now the record got buried. Ten hands touched it, but nobody carried it. That’s how fraud grows—not a genius design, Just ten weak people saying, “Fuck it, that’s fine.” But I can’t. Won’t bend. Maybe I’m wired wrong. ’Cause the darker it gets, The more I know right from wrong. Got demons in my head, but they follow my rules: Don’t steal from the weak. Don’t feed on fools. Don’t forge the facts Just to make shit fit. If I put my name on something— I FUCKING OWN THAT SHIT! No mask for the mirror. No prayer for the paper. No blaming the victim To rescue the taker. If truth costs money, Then send me the bill. You can empty my pockets. My word is mine still. [Beat Switch | double-time forensic flow] Facts over fiction—proof over pride. If the totals don’t match, I ain’t letting it slide. Date. Name. Page. Claim. Who moved what? Who approved that change? Receipts in the folder, copies in stacks, Truth may move slowly, but truth leaves tracks. Metadata, messages, margins and times, Every gap got a shape, every pattern got signs. You can bend conversation, revise what you said, But paper keeps memory when memory goes dead. Cross-check the timeline. Follow the source. Who gained from the change? Who altered the course? Don’t hand me a story— Show me the chain. If the facts stay consistent, They survive being named. You can bury one record, But copies exist. Every lie needs another To cover the switch. That tower gets taller. The foundation gets thin. I don’t have to destroy it. The truth caves it in. [Chorus | shouted lead, gang responses] I KEEP IT ONE HUNDRED EVEN IN THE DARK! I DON’T NEED FRAUD TO PROVE WHO WE ARE! Call me damaged. Call me cold. But my conscience ain’t something I fucking sold. I’M DARK! NOT EVIL! GET THAT SHIT STRAIGHT! I’D RATHER LOSE CLEAN THAN WIN BEING FAKE! [Bridge | vulnerable rap over piano] Maybe that’s why I never fit in. I learned the darkness Without worshipping sin. I’ve done wrong. I’ve fucked up. I carry that weight. But admitting you’re broken Ain’t the same as being fake. I never said righteous. I said I have a code. And when the easy road Requires selling my soul— I’ll take the hard one. Alone. [Build | spoken → guttural] Don’t confuse My darkness With permission. Don’t confuse My anger With corruption. Don’t confuse Being broken With having no code. MY CONSCIENCE AIN’T TURNED OFF! [Breakdown | half-time Drop F, guttural] DARK! NOT! EVIL! ONE! HUNDRED! FUCKING! PERCENT! REAL! [gang] NO FAKE NUMBERS! NO FAKE NAMES! [gang] NO MOVED DATES! NO FUCKING GAMES! KEEP YOUR MONEY! KEEP YOUR DEAL! IF I GOTTA LIE TO WIN— I’D RATHER LOSE FOR REAL! BLEGH! [Final Verse | relentless double-time rap] You can threaten my future, put a price on my past, Try to drown every question in a mountain of cash. But the truth don’t panic and the facts don’t flinch. Every inch that you move leaves a mark on the print.
