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Members: Raymond Yann
Recent Releases
  1. 3rd World
    Standards by My Depiction on the album Whatever You're Going Through (Special Edition) Lyrics: Look around, entire nations engaging in sodomy. Not a damn soul will admit that there's some fault in me. We're still hung up on some bullshit ancient prophacy. When we can't pick up the hone on real problems like inequality. The blood spilled over hate's enough to paint the town mahagony. We have less reasons to riot but the pickets are skyrocketing. One one side of the earth, they're living in utter poverty; Working cheap labor to fill our overflowing box of rings. We have the nerve to btch cuz the grass is not as green. Wake up 'Murica, there are bigger worries than the tallest tree. Bribe me not to worry when there's no money laundering. Witches aren't the only one's doinng the conjouring. Chorus: Third world countries, that's our problem. Third sports car is unneccessary, honest. Third world war doesn't have you offset. I'd spell it ou but you failed third grade phonics. About the much relied upon technology, How to build we know not a thing. Social media, the docile seed, stop it please. The only button's to follow and not to lead. Encouraging the solvency of following. Nerd's labeling as phone zombies that's hypocracy. TV's addictive psycology is monotany. Each news company's owned by one family's monopoly. That's why they're esteeming Hillary, not honoring Socrates. Heart's are hardening and morals are softening. Cuz backstabbers give apologies uncommonly. No one bats an eye at their neighbour's hostile thief. But wants help for their yard pottery robbery. Outta them, him, yourself, you'd always chose option three. You can't hear their cries cuz you're hollering "don't bother me". There're millions of souls left wandering. (Chorus) It takes two words to say what one finger does inaudibly. Don't give second chances to a fallen nation that's struck out three times and still toppling. Don't waste one minute behind four walls, is my policy. One storm can, have a double rainbow and still get an armada of ships lost at sea. (3x) (Chorus) Original song by My Depiction. All rights reserved.
  2. Given Away
    Given Away by My Depiction on album Whatever You're Going Through. Dedicated to Sunny Solomon. Lyrics (Think before you have company) (This really happened; I ain't fronting) Let me introduce you to a girl named Sunny. Her future was bright; she'd make lotsa money. Always content while others her age were wanting. A great sense of humor but her story's not funny. When her fifteenth birthday comes along, she's not about To have a big party; just a couple friends on the couch. But shit hits the fan when they want something to talk about. They keep on drinking until the beer and vodka's out. She's already had enough but her best friend's brought more. Her black hoodie seems sexy, to him, after too many shots poured. She's a virgin but he refers to her as a "hot whore". He asks her to come to the bedroom but she's not sure. With deviously timed shots and circumstance, Intoxicants convince her to shed her purple vans. To bring her guard down more, he works his hands. He's making progress, next to go are get shirt and pants. The liquor blurs her vision along with her judgement. His lucky day ends with her being luckless. He knows what he's doing but she cannot function. She's filled with his dick insteada the substance. Chorus: For her birthday she's given away Now every year she'll remember her pain. To get satisfaction, this isn't the way. Instead of taking advantage, defend her from rape. As if her situation's not hard enough in the first place, The ultrasound reveals, inside her, a blurred face. The doctor says if she lives, it'll be pure grace. The life is developing at an obscure pace. Dr Henderson runs some tests and steps into the back room. When he returns he begrudgingly says, "I have bad news". Forlorn overtakes everyone as he states, "she'll pass soon". (This is the part where Ableton plays a sad tune.) [Heart monitor flatline] (Chorus) "She waa asking for it. I find you..." [Gavel knocking] "Not guilty." Sunny isn't the only girl sexuality assaulted. I wish I could say we were working to halt it. No shark attack, just men attacks, you called it. Now tell me why it's the females who are faulted? You say, if she don't want rape, she shouldn't be drinking. Maybe you shouldn't own shit to prevent robbery, I'm thinking. I hope your stank ass always stays single so there'll be no cheating. Oh wait, you're alive, you must be saying "murder me please"! If this reopens old wounds, know someone out there cares. Instead of mourning her story, I'd like them to share theirs. This is a summons for all those women who compare scares. Men need to carry a warning sign with the message "beware bear". (Chorus) Original Song by My Depiction. All rights reserved.
  3. Vegans (Twenty One Pilots Parody)
    Vegans (TØP Parody) Performed by Ray of My Depiction and RB in the Background Lyrics: Chorus: I'll turn my friends to vegans, turn them slow. Can't wait for them to ask me what I know. Beef don't make any sudden moves. You don't know the half of the abuse. Turn my friends to vegans, turn them slow. Can't wait for them to ask me what I know. Turkeys don't make any sudden moves. You don't know the half of the abuse. Welcome to the room of beef fritters or is it the room or corpes that have felt the pain? Locked away. Just because they're killed behind closed doors doesn't mean the bills will pay for meat, humane. You don't know the psychopath drinking blood with spoons. Just as guilty as the murderer leaving open tombs. You think who's the murderer standing in your shoes. After all I've said, please don't forget... (Chorus) We don't deal with burned flesh scent very well. They say cucumbers have a certain smell. They've crushed millions of mail chickens. Food boxes don't tell of intentions. You'll never know the freakshow drinking cum like juice. They should name it Red Skeet Bull and tell the whole truth. The keep it on the down low from people like me and you. Way o'er our heads. Well now it's said: (Chorus) Now all my friends are vegans, I've turned them slow. Didn't wait for them to ask me what I know. (2x) You can't cut meat cold turkey is what you say. It tastes too good to stop in just one day. They're packed tighter inside than kids on a bus. One day is harder for them then one without for us. The music is not my own work but that of Tyler Joseph and Josh Dunn in their original song "Heathens" off the Suicide Squad Soundtrack.
  4. Life
    Life by My Depiction on Whatever You're Going Through. All rights reserved. Lyrics: (Based on a true story) (Check) Verse 1: It's a nice sunny day as three babies open their eyes. But all Billy and his siblings see are broken, hurt lives. His mom has infectious nipples and swollen bruised thighs. That grim day, two family members are stolen from life. Times get darker, but the two left are hoping for light. Until they're separated, no more holding on tight. Billy watches in horror as she's pumped full of substances. She's fed generously so she doesn't bitch. PreChorus 1: She's caged with no space to run or shit. She soon learns what the curse of abundance is. With her overweight body, her legs buckle quick. Before her first birthday, she's done a bucket kick. Chorus 1: Do you cook your meet well done so you won't have to taste the blood. The violence still happens even if you insist on it being behind closed doors. Did you know you can buy focalized ivory or a fake rug? If you wouldn't wanna be tortured, support that of them no more. Verse 2: A little while later, he'll wish he'd suffered her fate. Her endless torturing was just a foretaste. First he's marked with a number, then cussed at like a name. His overseers think he's pain is some sort of game. He's crowded and hot cuz they have too many mouths to feed. Instead of a normal fifteen years, Billy lived around three. He's hung upside down with slit throat and bound feet. As his blood drains out, we all call him ground beef. Maybe if you forgot his story, you could get a sound sleep. Maybe you can't find your humanity, well mine found me. Go ahead and indulge in your GMO, cow pee. I don't give a fuck what the whole town thinks. PreChorus 2: "Ray, only one cow is killed for twelve hundred burgers." In your lifetime you'd eat eleven thousand, speak no further. That makes ten more cows who weren't brutally murdered. Can I offer a job to the old meat department worker? Chorus 2: Do you cook your meet well done so you won't have to taste the blood. The violence still happens even if you insist on it being behind closed doors. Did you know you can buy focalized ivory or a fake rug? If you wouldn't wanna be tortured, support that of them no more. If a vegan is a pussy, I'd like to see you give a snake hug. It's no secret that buying processed meat causes problems galore. Bridge: That chicken period you like to call (an egg). Isn't from a comfortable coop on farm (Sanchez). These hens are packed tighter than the candy (brand Pez). I'm not asking you to believe what one (man says). With two minutes of research, find out for yourself. There're thousands of animals, each day, crying for your help. Or are you too selfish and only care about your health? Then in Karma's dealing, you'll be the first dealt. The only reason our species is at the top of the food chain, Is spoken language and the ability to change. If extra terrestrials invaded earth, you'd hang. Would you ask for mercy, or say "good game"? (Chorus 2) Original song by My Depiction.
  5. Equality
    Equality by My Depiction on Whatever You're Going Through. All rights reserved. Lyrics: Verse 1: We're afraid to bring up the topic. The government says we've solved it. When the only ones speaking up are those hated, where's the logic? Battles won; war yet to begin. It's never ending as far as I see it. Jobs can't fire due to race, but can for no reason? Bigotry only exists cuz we let it. To benefit ourselves, issues we edit. The "N" word's only racist when a white person said it. Purses clutched in the presence of blacks. Prejudice before we know all the facts. But the truth is, they're the ones enough needa watch their backs. From the very people sworn to protect them. Excuses like, "It looked he had a weapon". It's not their fault their part of town is the dark section. Lend me your ear for just one second. I know we're white and opportunity beckons. Now imagine if your family left you with a debt to recon'? Chorus: Opportunity is knocking Stop waiting around, making excuses. Stop singing and talking (Yap yap yap) About making a change; that's that's useless. The path may be rocky. If you want a cure when it makes you sick. Lift a finger for equality. Open your ears, this is more than music. Verse 2: We claim we're past the issue of bigotry, Pretending Ebola is where there's a bigger need. They want our heads turned cuz hunt plot's thickening. A feast of lies served by a fickle king. Tattooed thug bitches about profiling. But when gays are hated, he says "no crying". We're all to blame, we call it "low riding". 'Til contempt finds its way to our own diary. Most members of a group may act a certain way, Whether it's religious belief or birthing day. Their actions aren't determined by their shirt inlay. Activists created by how the curtains hang. (Don't wanna see that) Don't say "I'm not racist; I know a black guy"; Don't say "All cops kill" while one saves your life. A stand against discrimination stands for all rights, Not just what's within your own narrow mind. A change starts with one person. If you don't get off your ass it worsens. You may be fine, but she's hurtin'. By remaining neutral, you're the thief lurkin'. (About to attack) (Chorus) Bridge: Singing along won't make them act differently. You're offended in three ways in one sentence, see? Yet so un-bothered by hate it's sickening. A race crying out for help and you're not listening. What if I ya there's never been such a race? Look closely next time you see an unlucky face. We all come from the same fucking place. The answer's grounded but your head is stuck in space. Look at the paper; you'll see black mixed with white. Even darkness would be unnamed without a little light. Without pressure, coal can't even crystallize. This is old news relayed, don't act mystified. "I'm not racist" always precedes a racial slur. Can a Muslim enter the room and no faces turn? What if that was your mom and they hated her? With just one match each, we've made the blazes burn. Having a black friend doesn't release the tension. You still segregated him with your description. It takes courage to speak just as it does to listen. Let's all take a stand like Churchill, Winston. Some women scantily clad worry about breast and size. While the hijab covers all on others except their eyes. So tell which type of woman is really objectified? Men benefit either way, so only women testify. Are you discriminated against? Jump on the carriage. How can interracial couples hate on gay marriage? When theirs wasn't even legal for their parents? Maybe the change should come not from the law makers, but from those to whom they're sent. Original song by My Depiction.
  6. Death's Door by My Depiction
    Death's Door by My Depiction on Whatever You're Going Through. All rights reserved. Lyrics: Verse 1: Daily, you tell the small lies. Saying everything's alright. Wishing you could dream all night. Putting up a trivial fight. Trying to live in the moment, but the moment is depressing. Day by day, you almost own it, but you've blown it before dressing. Singing a soothing sonnet, but it doesn't bring you resting. By the past, you're haunted from chances gone again, so you're stressing. If you've got a man problem, Or motivation stats droppin'; You feel god can't solve them. Recall we all have got sin. You say although we all feel deeply, none feel as deeply as I do inside. Will to go on dims with evening; can't even see day's soonest sight. Life can be extremely restricting, but what's restricting you from suicide? Your teams will-power is weakening while strengthening that of ruin's side. Chorus 1: So if you think it'd be easy to fake a slip and fall, Or let the red water prove you chose to end it all. Does a bathtub for a coffin seem inviting? Maybe the light of the candle dancing off the wall, Just chases your demons a bit further down the hall. And you think maybe it's your soul that needs igniting. Verse 2: The road to success only has one obstruction. You're too plagued by anxiety to function. When your nemosis is what gives you instruction, The only winning move is your own self-destruction. Can you kill your own brain and still live? You can't evade the doom of grim's scythe. Does birth grant a license to kill with? The gift of life just asks what we'll give. Chorus 2: You might be overcome with dismay or feel appalled To find that whatever death's door, upon you, may befall. Either oblivion or hellfire is frightening. Atop the roof, masked by rain, no one sees you bawl. You look down and envision yourself disemboweled. The chance the town below would miss you is unlikely. Bridge: Perhaps your friends left you or I guy broke your heart. Death brings satisfaction like a heroin dart; Your troubles may vanish as your flesh pokes apart; Once it's done, you can't get back but will hope you are. Life on earth gives you hell sometimes and you'll want relief. We must fall before we get the helping hand we seek. The perpetual inferno gives no shits of your belief. The Cerberus traps the damned in the dark chambers beneath. The vexatious days make us appreciate merriment. Those days will come whether they're sparse or frequent. So the next time you're being mercilessly beaten, Be grateful your abusive dad have you a place up sleep in. Some birth-givers are dead and others are delinquent. Orphans' moms claim the birth date was just inconvenient. It's a long trek to the top but the view is fucking scenic. If you choose to persevere, you can say you've seen it. Original song by My Depiction.
  7. Victomless Crimes
    Victomless Crimes by My Depiction on the album Whatever You're Going Through special edition Lyrics: Chorus: This song ain't about getting high man It's about rising above the tyrant Ride this beat to the skies man You'll feel as heightened as I am Mizanskey rots for victimless crimes damn No hate, just glaze when you look into his eyes man He's locked below so the rich'll stay high man Rapists freed to make room for nickel and dimebag Derrel Verse: Wars aren't waged on faceless inanimate objects (No war on drugs) No matter what the fuck the feds wanna call it (The war's on us) The ones against the fences aren't the alcoholics (Put your hands up) The pursuers for users incriminate the faultless (And not the drunks) We're too busy getting stoned over at Rockfest (Dude, pass the blunt) To look out about pick-pocketed wallets (What the drunk does) Drunks see red and dread; we see paint by Pollock (Come fly with us) No pot physical mineral is addictive or toxic (But their lie was) Till I exposed it (Chorus) Bridge: If marijuana is less harmful than tobacco products, why then is it illegal, you ask? Cuz the big pharma and aristocrats are washing their hands instead of wiping their poopy ass. This world gives us a test to see who's the best liar and the test is administered by those who pass. While hemp is outlawed, their coveted oil market won't give too much competition to the collared, blue class. On voting day, while you sit at home blowing smoke, Johnny's losing to cancer and you blew his chance. Huffpost reports this year 88 thousand people died to booze and life number 30k was lost to a crash. The 1.2mil saved by the green can't be larger because the thought of getting blazed, look past, you can't. I made my research paper fully autobiographic with my works cited by procon and rapped to a tune fast. (Chorus) Outro: Smoke the emotional pain away Smoke the physical pain away (inhale exhale) Original Song by My Depiction. All Rights Reserved
  8. Standards
    You could have a sweet girl but don't cuz she's not fashion-esque. (Kick the dick with your high heals) You turn down the next girl cuz she's trying to get skinny but hasn't yet. The third girl's waist size is ideal but she's not passin' tests. The fight against numbers is quite real) You're looking for a naturally thin girl with eyebrows waxed, big breasts; Not too butch or bitchy, all the shit that you as a man ingest. (For someone, squishy's just the right feel) You live in an imaginary world if you think she can be making sandwiches In the kitchen, and at the same time in the office, cashin' checks. You can't see girl's injured self-esteem below all the bandages. Chorus: Girl's don't be held down by society's standards. Next time he tries to say a little makeup can't hurt, Tell him your beauty isn't determined by his slander. He uses words like kitten for a fucking panther! If you have a seatbelt, ya better fasten it. I'm about to break it down in one mad sentence. If your petty asses weren't insecure about your smile, we'd have one sad dentist. Don't try to be ethical among savages. You women can be what the man isn't. The banks want you to feel like the upper class and buy a house when you can't rent it. (Chorus) Out of all the tools known to man, the mouth works the hardest and goes the farthest. Can simply speak words of kindness and cherubim and seraphim are harkened. But the wrong words are like knives, and with vocabulary, they're sharpened. On an earth black with hate, why add even more darkness? When a single candle can light a thousand more without being darkened? Discouragement is as useful as a game console without a cartridge. Who wants a sea full of pretty fish, when there's a resilient starfish? There're people who spend fifty bucks on a can that holds garbage. A thousand flashy cylinders with high price tags (adorned). Everybody wants the one the other guy has (much more). Nobody thinks to open it and see, inside, trash (galore). The outside may be pleasing, but what's beneath, your eyes can't (endure). (Chorus) Original song by My Depiction. All rights reserved.
  9. Bulimia
    Bulimia by My Depiction on album Whatever You're Going Through. Dedicated to Olivia Eade Lyrics: Verse 1: She has two companions named middle and pointer Who loyally help her ward off her enemy, food. She's called a bad influence but wants none to join her. If her legs can't hold had petite weight, she's in a good mood. Her ribs can be played like a xylophone but she's convinced That her body's ugly and she needs to drop a couple pounds. It's an ongoing battle, in her head, some think is nonsense; But she keeps it bottled up, and her lips speak not a sound. Her daily struggle's whether to throw up or spit. Despite her efforts to meet her tormentors expectations, The harsh criticism and relentless bullying persists. Her comforting melody's the jeers sung. So she spends her mealtime praying to the porcelain god, That one day her efforts will pay off and they'll call her pretty. Is she a self conscious bitch like they say, or are they nimrods? Her throat is raw, her build fragile, and her outlook shitty. Chorus: Each time someone looks her way, she gets nervous. Their piercing eyes condemn her flawed and worthless. No one would ever want to see her fat ass shirtless. Always treated like she's from a freak-show or circus. A little pudge makes her an outcast and imperfect. Sometimes her attention guess from her stomach to her wrist. They compare her attire to what's worn on hearses. When will she tell them, "I've had it, and won't take your shit!"? Verse 2: Little does she know, those pretty girls won't have model bodies forever. They may get attention and appear to be liked for their physique; But soon enough, they'll be replaced by someone who can whore better. Who wants to be remembered as sexy when she's got technique? Wife material is made up of outter beauty that won't and can't last. Weigh out the options: beauty versus brawn; eye candy or soul soup. You'll provide and care for your boo, while they mooch and half-ass. They're an appetizer that leaves you wanting more, she's the satisfying whole food. She may not be a stick, but she's got a love that's love that's unconditional. Not a lacy feeling with hidden pricetags down to the dollar and cent. If only she could see, she breaks the scale of what's yearned in traditionals. She doesn't need a skeleton structure to be gorgeous, so be confident. (Instrumental) Bridge: The media put the idea in our heads. What was once a rumor has now spread. A ploy to make money by scheming township. The number of blind fish hooked is countless. All convinced they're original, when they're mindless. Spreading animosity instead of kindness. That if you're unhealthy, you'll be fine, yes. These followers are all in for surprises. Beauty ain't bought with Orlistat's prices. There are bigger worries than waist sizes. Everyone forgets, this girls do get flack given. They have a guy's body, or are flat chested. Judgement is sugar coated and multi-faceted. Acceptance can't be found where the asset is. Chorus 2: Someone out there will look her way and see she's perfect. In a sea of condemning eyes, she's still worth it. The truth is, she's attractive and has a purpose. If anything, she's the main attraction at the circus. She's not pudgy, it's the whole world that's imperfect. Soon enough she'll have no addiction, stomach nor her wrist. She can continue to rock the apparel of hearses. Her critiques can let this sink in: "I won't take your shit!" Original song by My Depiction. All rights reserved.
  10. A Song About Anxiety
    A Song About Anxiety by My Depiction feat. Katelyn. Lyrics: Inside, my cranium's cluttered with words. But its platform, my tongue, fumbles and turns. My silence means not my assumptions are dirt. What if my speaking makes yours suddenly worse? An uneasy feeling overtakes me As you look up and then you turn to face me. Can't let it go like bloom girl by Banksy. Your smile from across the room brings safety. PreChorus: No, I don't wanna talk about it when talking can't cure the blues. No, I don't feel better knowing you have to go through it too. Chorus: You weigh my worries down with the same pillows that I cocoon in. You hide me from interactions in the safe corner of the room, friend. Eye contact makes me anxious, anxious but your eyes they are so soothin'. I trip your hand so tightly, tightly the clutch of fear begins to loosen. I fear you'll see my hands dripping in sweat. To you, shaking hands is simply pleasant. From your pleasant cup, I'm sipping just stress. I found the confidence for crippling regret. Behind me, are distant laughter sounds, gee. In my head, it's like loud scoffs surround me. I'm intimidated, my heart is pounding, By the thought that it might be about me. Don't disappear after umpteen low days. Are you used to me not being okay? Too used to my struggle to help me cope mayne? I rely on sleep like you need cocaine. (PreChorus) (Chorus) Does anyone ever ramble in their head? I do. Holy shit, she's talking to me. How will I know just what to say? I can't believe she's talking to me; She's asking me about my day (How's your day?) But I know she'll think differently if I told her how I'm really feeling. The walls are closing in on me and it's almost like I can feel the ceiling. I could dodge the question or give an answer that is so vague. My thoughts are unleashed but my skittish mouth just says that I'm okay. (Um... I'm okay.) I try to float but I'm immersed. Her invasive retinas throw me off. I know she's second guessing my words. Somehow she can read my thoughts. Was it the hesitation that's in my response that gave me away? Or is it that the phrase is top stereotypically mundane? I can't wait 'til I can go. I'll feel safe inside my home. No more fear when I'm alone, Where I can get as high as hopes. The hope that one day this'll go Away like I'm invisible. It IS real if it's not physical. My hood'll keep it hidden though. Damn, is she still talking to me? I want you to know, you're not the only one who feels this way. This anxiety that you feel is a real thing. Your emotions are valid. Even if you've done it a thousand times, you can still go to work, or school. I'm proud of you. Keep going. I believe in you. Original song by My Depiction. All rights reserved.
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