MOOD

​ ​Minister of the Veil Verse 1: I spit with the force of a war god’s vengeance, Mind’s a morgue drawer, storing dead sentence remnants. Skull full of chaos, breath like apocalypse, Words cut through time like a blade from a prophet’s fist. I ain’t sane, I’m sacred—cracked halo, eyes faded, Soul barcoded, government-tracked and hated. I came from the filth where the rats raise wolves, Where we write on the walls with blood-dripped tools. Neural assassin, gas mask passion, Thoughts drip acid, voice bomb-blastin’. I freestyle in Latin, then switch to tongues unknown, You spittin' tweets—I spit glyphs on stone. Cannibal scholar, baptized in sewage, Flow’s so sharp I draw blood through the vapor An alchemist trapped in a junkie’s frame, I don’t spit bars—I cast spells through pain. Chorus: Ink bleeds iron, truth burns flames, Scars on my soul spell out my name. Beats in the gutter, voice from the crypt, Rappin' ain't a game—it's survival with a gift. (Repeat x2) Verse 2: I’m that ghost in the cypher, nightmare with a notepad, Mind like a razor, tongue sharp as a toe tag. Raised in the ruins where the angels don’t pray, Spit plague on a page, watch the heavens decay. Post-trauma prophet, born in the wreckage, I scribe with the blood of the system’s rejected. Every bar’s a bone from the tomb I broke, This ain’t rap, this is smoke from the noose I choked. Neurons glitchin', twitchin' off visions, Of blacksite prisons and corporate religion. No gimmicks, just clinical, syllables cynical, My ritual's biblical, death is just typical. Flesh-made cipher, spit spite through scripture, Picture me preaching with a blade in the mirror. So tell the world—rap ain’t vanity or fame, It’s a pulse in the pitch black, screaming my name. Verse 3: I write in sigils, my pen’s a curse, Every line resurrects the pain I nurse. I bled for this ink, made war with my will, Spit truth so sharp it could shatter a pill. I’m trauma incarnate in a vinyl spin, A blade in the beat where the silence begins. I rap like a priest who lost faith in the steeple, Still baptize hellfire just to reach my people. I breathe in static, exhale confessions, Carve my rhymes like posthumous lessons. No flex, just hex, no diamonds—just grit, I'm the voice of the souls that the world tried to quit. Verse 4: I was born in the rift where the system cracks, Where the law wears hoods and the truth gets axed. My mind’s an asylum, each thought is a cell, And every verse I drop’s a jailbreak from hell. Street-coded scripture, I scribble on bricks, Baptized in bullets and heroin hits. Prophetic like Daniel, but chained like a slave, I spit like the ghosts of the brave in the grave. I don’t do trends, I unearth the real, Make pain an offering and trauma a seal. So if I vanish—remember my flame, I etched my truth in the mouth of the flame. Verse 5 (Final Verse): I’m the last breath of a lost generation, Ink in my veins, voice forged in damnation. I walk through the fire with ghosts on my spine, Each rhyme a tombstone, etched in time. They tried to cage the truth, so I spit in code, With a tongue full of ash and a heart that explodes. I’m the sermon they buried beneath the noise, The war cry stitched in the silence of boys. No fame, no chains—just rage refined, A martyr in bars with a rebel’s mind. So when I fall—let the booth combust, And let these verses rise from the smoke and dust. Chanting Slogan (Outro): Ink bleeds iron, scars don’t lie— We speak in pain, and we testify. Truth in the gutter, fire in the script— We don’t rap for clout, we rap to resist. (Repeat x2, like a war chant echoing in the dark) ​Yeah, they call it a Glass House, but it feels like a cage, Every window they stare through is an article on the page. The spotlight's a furnace, and I'm melting the frame, I got nothing to hide, but they still whisper my name. It’s a life under glass, where the truth is distorted, Every flaw, every crack, is immediately reported. Gotta laugh through the anger, gotta smile through the burn, 'Cause if I flinch just one time, the whole damn thing will turn. ​[VERSE 1] ​Built a life out of sand, right here on the shore, Now the tide is the internet, and they're asking for more. They want the messy details, the screaming inside the car, They want to film the breakdown, right after they broke the star. Yeah, I put the walls up, transparent and clean, Thought transparency meant they would finally see what I mean. But they just see the reflections of the dirt in their own eye, Projecting their own shadows onto the man they vilify. I can't whisper a secret, can't even just take a breath, 'Cause the mics are all hot, waiting for the sound of my spiritual death. Click, click, flash, there goes my privacy, stolen, Every rumor they print, leaves a hole that's unwhole and ungolden. So I stand in the middle, exposed and bare-knuckled, This is the penance I pay for the fame that I hustled. ​[HOOK] ​(Faster, more desperate delivery) ​Yeah, they call it a Glass House, but it feels like a cage, Every window they stare through is an article on the page. The spotlight's a furnace, and I'm melting the frame, I got nothing to hide, but they still whisper my name. It’s a life under glass, where the truth is distorted, Every flaw, every crack, is immediately reported. Gotta laugh through the anger, gotta smile through the burn, 'Cause if I flinch just one time, the whole damn thing will turn. ​[VERSE 2] ​They say "Don't throw stones," but the world is pelting me daily, My skin's growing thick, but the soul is getting frailer. Every tweet is a trigger, every comment's a gunshot, And they wonder why I'm sitting here, tying myself into a knot. I'm a public domain spectacle, a headline circus act, They study my movements, like I'm a specimen right in the track. The Hotel Diablo was heaven compared to this hell, At least there I had corners where I could scream and yell. Now the pain is a performance, the vulnerability sells, So I wear all my scars, ringing like shrapnel bells. And they cheer when I bleed, but they leave when I heal, 'Cause a happy ending doesn't match the darkness they want to feel. So watch me break down, watch me re-compose, In this see-through fortress, that everyone knows. ​[BRIDGE] ​( ​But I'm still breathing... I’m still here, unbroken. The glass shatters outward, not inward, when spoken. Let them stare. Let them judge. Let the whole world see. I'm the only damn judge that can sentence the real me. ​[HOOK] ​(Full intensity, final drop with heavy 808s) ​Yeah, they call it a Glass House, but it feels like a cage, Every window they stare through is an article on the page. The spotlight's a furnace, and I'm melting the frame, I got nothing to hide, but they still whisper my name. It’s a life under glass, where the truth is distorted, Every flaw, every crack, is immediately reported. Gotta laugh through the anger, gotta smile through the burn, 'Cause if I flinch just one time, the whole damn thing will turn. ​[OUTRO] ​(Beat cuts to a final, sustained A Minor synth chord and a faint echo) ​...Go ahead and look... ...See what you want to see... ...You're trapped in here with me... ...