Hitekz The L/Hitek

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this is my best nice g.
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blu blice!

amsterdam blair on ben,
the thick one whom was the fish..
worst of men with no soul tthat shines..
learned decided to devil, and ran and hide..
as they fall in lines, intricate as they are in sync.
left in the corner, and shaped by surfing.
the lowest of men, pushed in the pit.
men are simple, to the devil
their education, in a pint glass
the oppression of california
in a liberal disguise
the cartilage
the needle
many fall or claim to have fallen
though our lows are real
so watch it
watch out the path you took
disgusting crook of 3k
if you see what i meant
a beating from you could make a fish
a dream come true
the stones fell like an infection,
the weaker generation
unless something..
the immortal mind behind the hand folded
damn ugly face
fascist and cool..
the new danger.
as we coast erreday

NEW SC!!!!!!
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i used to think i was the one, used to think they had my back. i used to think it was intellectual. i used to think, that i would get my share with what i had. but barriers get in the way, one gen is too retro, one gen don't like ice. i could fit with both now. trying to hard. i feel the struggle is on, there is alot of people. should i shoot them, there are alot maybe they shoot me. but they are wrong. i don't want to shoot anymore, the thrill has gone. our ON will make it after all the key is to remember that the days are early. not born yesterday. entertainment is a mugs game theres too much new music, tbh you're far better of the producer then the listener we all cnok thap .. i am a new generation and ill do what i blont. i feel that shock value goes beyond just drugs, as a life has to serve before its ready to die and get high.. flashbacks are on the foetus.. blood thirsty men just want the right to hunt. the blunt served a plan pooseypooos chuckner. the right hand man dobbed his womb with geosarrow or a marrow into a future of un peace keeping the white flag with a skid stain. peace out and flush before you brush cobwebs in the reality which is killing time. time isn't money too much of it. too much lazer for yer smart phone soon. records spinning your muscles will throb. waste man my dingaling. beaver with a rotten clit, you spit but you look like a bad onion on tissue paper missed the bog, pick it up off the floor. dont steal my food, dont gamble with my money. the saint ettienne royal flag boosts floor fillers with sandwich 6tu77ing6macandchheseman990807chhese chhese chhese 8top0top shanked now you cant breathe you gone die now cuz pouf.

sometimes i think scary thoughts to myself, like the fact that. (yea fact) all entertaiment that is not ours is just a red herring... some care scheme encrusted in ginger. well we are youths, we can have bibles. our sound is more edgy or can be. we could take the piss like a tribe.. or we could techno hits. our lazy guns aimed at our world not theirs. their fad with fearne cotton, edith frost or cranberrys or crouton bag or nelly, or thora heard. we could use a knife, fists or music, all three. pray that the pet lambo finally rots in his grave we shall make him turn. for ascociating his religeon with our sound what a (expired link) pills pills PILLz

that disgusting fruit of the beige, trying to pollute even our kitheon. i feel the danger lies in not zion, or memphis, but in beige prophesy as the fish rots under his funny beat. i feel his rage is that of a dog shite encrusted acorn. or blood on fiercely mutilated groin, ball eggs in my hands. while his mother enjoyed my rape of her more then her own . my bloody sick beats. as i throth them up a mountain of tradition crumbs. rules broken just noise. the trap of teen angst i guess, or beige fun sounds. or exosketion egg kicks. beige, rust the end of a tradition. get over the inhibion of killing 'till its legal again.. like weed might be i suppose. dont play nice, these pop stars must feel the pain.. like when their aunt sucked them.. we are sound boy not pussy boy, warriors who shall give fear to them, like polish cocaine but with eyes hooked out of media sad (advert swear). i guess their lows were us.. brute force will fit them in their gravezxppp[]<>[.

noxious toxic wool without vibe just hell fire on the mind of a male sound cat. like hell. i remember stealing my brain from someone else through headphones, how about you. where bulgaria was as great as san francisco. and the pollution just bread kindness, but they get on our nerves in a quest. the sound is the answer. sound could make a million , but first one must realise the value of a sound before putting work in the sounds you create. like an iron ship to the moon or personality deleted. as the soul boils, remember your first egg soldier? the anarchy was broken by the notions of skin, so said a hulk of a man. but the idea was no to listen, pay attention to those you dont know, as you pray to make like them, you will have to meet them, like a wild bbq sandwich.. to relate you must insert cretit into the jacko bucket and under stand micheals finger work well enough to electricute a radio. that is burnt out brown, in the time stools of mankind. the gen x the enemy of rock. fade away as you were too mean to me. only the bullied would relate. but thats not me i am the sound man..i refuse the weed. i am kiltless in a world faded in the church department, wise as a bird.

Don't let them pull the (wool) over ur (eyes) you all shine, in diamonds that bust though a 'we garden' i feel a vacuum of mind could be an illusion, in the full frontal show that is the future of 'we the people'. where killers get nowhere, they lay the tracks through the dustbin that is New York city. The emptiness of our kind, just like a wool holiday, where some of us are gifted..our equality just to avoid conflict. some may ram to infect us like we weren't already infected. but a teen desire that is beautiful.. like me but the question of we rammed in our throat. this equality avoids calamity, till the joker blames his bad karma on his eternal victim like some goat where we will refuse to cum, the grimy troll dont tend to try as hard as we, a black treadmill, waste the money on the nyc . i tell no lies because i cant lie to you, you lie to me now. tell me we are fine. this is an illusion, that i am somehow part of. the king is in dirt, like a hybrid of sinful high an low. like 1 + 3, i guess.

thanks to all who got involved in my site, aka listeners, fans etc.. my sc is deleted, just do music here now. i strive to cut out all the art and media bullying, some how through music, like i'm part of a movement, how about you? what goes around comes around though, but dont tell him that.. if i were to say 'you look fine' it would be for a shag. is that a compliment? trouble comes without self esteem, we have a system, i feel the clowns rot, but shine so bold. kol, whu? shites on us. i feel we are prey to a good time, we should all make good music afterall, tat would be the best solution, words are useless in the face of good (expired link).

once i get my head round it, nu stuff will be uploaded asap!!!!!!! i have tonnes of new tracks and am producing it on a regular basis. check (expired link) and (expired link) new stuff produced with ableton!!!