DARK Freestyle Storytelling Type Beat - “Centuries” | DARK TRAP Type Beat | BeatsbyKeat
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- Опубликовано: 18 сен 2024
- BPM: 118
)Free For Non-Profit(
)prod. Credit Is required for all use of my beats🔥(
)Will upload to beatstars only if demand is high(
)Willing to discuss exclusive rights in right scenario(
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www.instagram....
Not the most active, but I notify when I upload new beats on there and I do other cool stuff🤙🏻🔥
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Video made with FL Studio ZGameEditor Visualizer plugin
Effect author credits:
FourCornerGradient - Cynex
Dubswitcher Jitter Glitch - Dubswitcher
Youlean Audio Shake - Youlean
Super fire brother, I'm well on my path, went from just a journey to a conquest of greatness, thank you brother for your talent, this helps with my recovery 🍀♊❤️🔥🔥💯🤘👊
Just had to put my new suit to good use back into the swing of things to night is going to be great
🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥
Dope beat 🔥🔥
Thank you ❤
"Centuries" x AR
Center all energies for every century
sentenced to doom;
We'd really end with landfills filled to the brim with doubloons;
Scuffled into this demise with our eyes wide open looking toward the wise but elders just as surprised holding brooms;
As the world continues to unfurl itself, and hurls pain at us we seemingly feel like we
lose;
There's no true scroll, except the ones we pass by everyday at the toll of our own self closed off roads;
Why I've been learning to climb high
so I can say I'm at the top of a peak holding onto a totem pole
Got the power of the sun, the solar system & the coral reefs
Somehow bare my teeth through the streets & watch it all happen, madness, sadness, havoc, tragic
relief
That I don't have to sparrow myself to that worldly disaster to feel complete, could make millions but than I gotta play fake smiles with the elites -AR
Late for class
My date didn't last
The game I won
It was a blast
Lord found out I'm saved
What have I done to be a slave
Jesus say don't grab a gun
You end up in the grave
He ask the devil don't attack my son
You got things out of control
You got to get out of his brain
Lord found the controller
This means war
He says you not in control of her and him
Better stop having a full hold of lure my children
Buried at the finals
Marriage was my fight for survival
I learned from the best
Return of none other then the quest
Esprit
Free the corpse
From the dead
They wake me up
E chimney
Hail SYRup
My handwriting is off the line
Help me
Draw
Order more
Colours
Or smoke
I’m stupid
To actually
To press my cigar
On the drawing bUK
Thats
The hole
Gently burnt
Some how
My Assh May
Shade him
Out of the sun
Big freedom
Term
Mid Her
The stove
Is said
To be
In the forest
Walk
As these centuries tick on by.
I still have yet to find.
This so called love people have inside.
I feel like a crazy maniac, on a mission.
I just hope I dont die.
As life passes my eyes.
Yet very much alive.
I am beginning to open up my mind.
Opening up like a shaken soda, I bust,
Temptations I face make me combust, these snakes I meet have me ready to meet death and be the reaper himself, I take this blade of vegence off the shelf, almost every night, I give it a good polishing till it's reflections I can see my face, and that gives me a sour taste, for this world is a land of mistakes. Lambs to slaughter figurative speech, I am just gonna peek, into the places I am told not to go, I walk a forsaken road. Yet I have a halo, with a good heart that seeps out elixir of dark. Red, but it's colors change when outside forces contaminate, SO I TAKE MY HEAD and smash the Xanax, but that was a past me. Now with endless trees I puff clouds into the sky like Bob Ross, hoping to master the art, as Bras come off, tittie galore, I just want a loyal whore....
But we all know what's in store, as I push forward, the sky darkening. The voices screaming, as we age into oblivion.
You see!!
I was born cold, my momma wouldn't touch my horns, so my dad would use me as show and tell, for his illicit side whores, and split family's, and some how in the middle like Malcom, i learned to zero in like a falcon, comming in off the balcony. For money and glory, I just want to craft my story. For what's really in this world to achieve, when its all material separate from me? So I guess I will continue to work on me, till I am free in the stratosphere, it's time I get back into my spiritual needs. For I am so out of here, like the memes as they get over used, this brain rot literally a tool. Yet still I keep my cool.
As these centuries tick on by.
I still have yet to find.
This so called love people have inside.
I feel like a crazy maniac, on a mission.
I just hope I dont die.
As life passes my eyes.
Yet very much alive.
I am beginning to open up my mind.
Beginning to understand value and pride, If only I had a hand on my side to guide for now I use my own eyes, mixed in with trial and error, to amass terror. Back when a jhit. Stealing cars was legit, kicking the door and taking my shit, was all I knew now I sit at my crossroads with the walking stick, as the wind kicks sand and dust up to surround me like a mage, I practices these spells in hopes to cast ya in a daze, because fuck. I am getting fed up like your girl when she's overstuffed. I like to think holidays where made for memories, as they wash away. But yet when I talk I do to much, so it seems cuz they all love to ghost me, one with the spirits I configured my aura to contain wisps of images to display from outer planes I surly must be going insane as I rattle the brain. The energy has a fine taste. Almost like a mist of pepper spray.
Hotter than hades, I thrown shade for ages. Sitting in the dark studying the art of human nature for theater.
where the beat store at tho
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