Hillbilly Horror (Lo‑Fi Horrorcore Mix)

Waitin’ on the wicket while the wind keep whistlin’ Pine trees twistin’ like the devil still listenin’ Backroad midnight, black smoke driftin’ Soul feel split like the hillside shiftin’ Waitin’ on the wicket while the creek bed talkin’ Moonlight stalkin’, dead barefoot walkin’ Time keep tickin’ but the sky gone different And the fog roll thick when the lost souls visit Why do I always feel like wickedness hoverin’? Voltage prison in my cognitive corridors Locked in a cellular spectral development Sections are split into cursed sediment Infinite increment, sinister sentiment Multiplicity stretchin’ the prison I’m livin’ in Tick of the clock got cryptic significance Time on my side with malignant intent Backroad black smoke, bad omens hover Cold wind blow through the cracks of the shutters Pine trees sway like a mass grave summoned Buzzards circle while the sky turn bloody Creek water bubble like the dead still breathin’ Cabin lights flicker for no damn reason Holler so dark you can hear fear thinkin’ No trespass signs all broke and leanin’ Song keep repeatin’, repeatedly breedin’ Inside of my head like a demon keep feedin’ The more that I fight it, the deeper it sinkin’ Till the rhythm itself start stalkin’ my sleepin’ Tryna get the timin’ aligned with precision Outer dimensions collidin’ with inner conditions Mental imprisonment split into infinite visions Every decision got wicked premonitions I-I always take a minute before I proceed Into the valley where the shadows all breathe Where the rust on the Chevy all drip like disease And the crows on the fenceposts screech in the breeze Hillbilly horror with militant venom Moonshine spirits and forbidden legends Shotgun rack in the back of the shed And a barefoot phantom keep callin’ me dead Fog get thick when the nightfall hit Roadside crosses in a blood-red ditch Every old church got a boarded-up crypt Every hymn sound warped when the coyotes hiss Waitin’ on the wicket while the wind keep whistlin’ Pine trees twistin’ like the devil still listenin’ Backroad midnight, black smoke driftin’ Soul feel split like the hillside shiftin’ Waitin’ on the wicket while the creek bed talkin’ Moonlight stalkin’, dead barefoot walkin’ Time keep tickin’ but the sky gone different And the fog roll thick when the lost souls visit Cadillac slide through the backwoods violently Black magic trapped in the Appalachian ivy Lantern swing while the wind keep cryin’ Dead men walk where the coal mines widened Skinwalker grin in the thick of the timber Cold dark holler make the blood run thinner Radio static and the preacher still whisper: “Don’t let the forest know fear’s within ya” Time… time… time still tickin’ Every pine tree look possessed when it’s windy Every dirt road twist like a serpent against me Every memory feel cursed when it hits me Darkness shrouded me heavily, mentally Turned all my enemies into entities Now I move through Kentucky like destiny Tattooed in the flesh of the dead that remember me.