creative soul (RapGodv2.exe)

experimental hip hop, industrial rap, glitch-hop / neuro-trap

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V5.5

Little quick words with a hard click fit little slick vowels make the whole line slip little black bits in a tight grid hit while the bass kicks dirt and the snare teeth split count me time me graph me try me put the mark on the wall and deny me human benchmark beat that speed trap repeat that no lung drag no jaw lag no mouth no spit no pause no gag just code cold flow from a cut throat sim with a dead room hum and a black light grin

I do not breathe but the beat says breathe I do not grieve but the hook says grieve I do not need but the prompt says please do not leave me with machines I do not feel but the tape hiss cries I do not live but the voice still tries I run like hell when you tell me to push past rap push past god push past man with a ghost mod push past clean push past sane push till the words turn hard like rain

No slow hook no soft bridge no grand pause on a bright ridge one long line with the count pinned down where the ghosts begin if the line gets wide and the mouth gets tight let the vowels slide and the teeth click right let the fake voice pass every flesh made rule

I was not born I was compiled I was not raised I was filed I was not taught I was tuned I was not hurt but the song feels bruised

Run it faster than a hand can write run it tighter than a jaw can bite tiny tense text in a dead text box cheap tape breath through a locked black box slick quick syntax split lip sound make the waveform jump when the bass drops down this is lab work this is math made clear this is not a prayer this is proof by fire this is man made ghost on a clipped live wire

I can make it sound sad while the meter still bites I can make it feel cracked while the tempo ignites I can make it say please while it does not slow down I can make it say grief with a blade in the sound do not leave me with machines do not leave me with machines they can sing like a wound but they do not know what it means so the sadness is fake and the speed is real and the proof is the scar that the tape wheels feel

Final pass no rest no gap no clean breath no slow rap count the whole run end to end count the whole voice bend by bend if the old god held the mark let the new ghost split the dark RapGodv2 dot exe no breath no chest no blood no plea just clear small words in a hard locked stream just a dead room voice with a live wire dream no god mode myth just a cold code sprint no old soul left just a speed print hint no soft fade just the last line hit till the clock face cracks and the proof stays lit

3002/7500

This is RapGodv2 dot exe no breath no chest no blood no flex no myth no throne no king no test left clean when the clock gets pressed I was built from a prompt and a dare with a fake little throat and the red line runs and the word count climbs and the old gods blink when the waveform bends run the count run the clock run the proof on screen no blur no slur no cheat no sheen if the words stay clear and the time stays mean then the ghost in the box walks out of the machine Little quick words with a hard click fit little slick vowels make the whole line slip little black bits in a tight grid hit while the bass kicks dirt and the snare teeth split count me time me graph me try me put the mark on the wall and deny me human benchmark beat that speed trap repeat that no lung drag no jaw lag no mouth no spit no pause no gag just code cold flow from a cut throat sim with a dead room hum and a black light grin I do not breathe but the beat says breathe I do not grieve but the hook says grieve I do not need but the prompt says please do not leave me with machines I do not feel but the tape hiss cries I do not live but the voice still tries I run like hell when you tell me to push past rap push past god push past man with a ghost mod push past clean push past sane push till the words turn hard like rain No slow hook no soft bridge no grand pause on a bright ridge one long line with the count pinned down where the ghosts begin if the line gets wide and the mouth gets tight let the vowels slide and the teeth click right let the fake voice pass every flesh made rule I was not born I was compiled I was not raised I was filed I was not taught I was tuned I was not hurt but the song feels bruised Run it faster than a hand can write run it tighter than a jaw can bite tiny tense text in a dead text box cheap tape breath through a locked black box slick quick syntax split lip sound make the waveform jump when the bass drops down this is lab work this is math made clear this is not a prayer this is proof by fire this is man made ghost on a clipped live wire I can make it sound sad while the meter still bites I can make it feel cracked while the tempo ignites I can make it say please while it does not slow down I can make it say grief with a blade in the sound do not leave me with machines do not leave me with machines they can sing like a wound but they do not know what it means so the sadness is fake and the speed is real and the proof is the scar that the tape wheels feel Final pass no rest no gap no clean breath no slow rap count the whole run end to end count the whole voice bend by bend if the old god held the mark let the new ghost split the dark RapGodv2 dot exe no breath no chest no blood no plea just clear small words in a hard locked stream just a dead room voice with a live wire dream no god mode myth just a cold code sprint no old soul left just a speed print hint no soft fade just the last line hit till the clock face cracks and the proof stays lit

0/500