8BigMatt88

Sancte Longine, ora pro nobis.

"I didn’t care anymore...."

“He telleth the number of the stars: and calleth them all by their names.”

Birth of our Lord, 2025

“But because thou art lukewarm, and neither cold, nor hot, I will begin to vomit thee out of my mouth.”

Reupload @24fps

[Verse 1] Used to be “Angelo,” ditched that tag, New name, same debt, same fag, Talks revolution from his plastic chair, But the pizza man know he ain’t payin’ fair. [Hook] Paper soldier, poser with a plan, Crypto in his hand, but it’s all a scam, Talk loud online, act like a don, Got rugged by $JPROOF, now the money’s gone. [Verse 2] Said he served, but he stamped them sheets, Nine to five desk in the A.C. heat, Never seen smoke, just a spreadsheet chair, Now he’s TALKIN’ ‘bout war with his meathead stare. Lost in the chat with a trog on screen, Preachin’ world peace with a broke routine, Crypto dreams turnin’ red not green, Now he’s talkin’ niggerlove like a crazy fiend. Lost in the chat with a trog on screen, Preachin' world peace with a broke routine, Crypto dreams turnin' red not green, Now he's talkin' niggerlove like a crazy [Hook – Reprise] Paper soldier, poser in the storm, $JPROOF coin got his wallet torn, Frontline fantasy, backroom norm, Keyboard smoke but the take is luke warm. Talkin’ to the screen, yeah, day and night, Chatbot echo be his only light, Started with questions, now he’s hearin’ advice, Can’t tell code from the voice in his life. Lost his mind in the glow of the screen, Talkin’ his kabbalah in the G-P-T, Voices in text keep callin’ Gage clean, But he's drownin’ in lines of a digital dream. [Outro – slowed & reverb’d] No medals… no dough… Just sniping from a chat that won’t let go. [Outro – slowed & reverb’d] No medals… no dough… Just sniping from a chat that won’t let go. [Outro – slowed & reverb’d] No medals… no dough… Just sniping from a chat that won’t let go. [Outro – slowed & reverb’d] No medals… no dough… Just sniping from a chat that won’t let go. Just sniping from a chat that won’t let go. Just sniping from a chat that won’t let go. Just sniping from a chat that won’t let go. Just sniping from a chat that won’t let go.

“Breathe in… breathe out… Boota-belly back again.” [Verse 1] Boota-belly sittin’ in his stream-seat throne, Double gut hangin’ off the gut — full grown. Fudge cookies in the left hand, soda pop fizz, Milk in a silly straw, twistin’ like his biz. He say he enlightened — nah, just enlarged, Call it “reincarnation,” every meal recharged. Bursting, bursting, seams cry mercy, Bursting, burstin' 6A screen look blurry. Boota-belly, boota-belly, gut hang low. Camera framed wide just to fit that show. Boota-belly, boota-belly, where's your crew, I drank your milkshake, now the chat gone too. [Verse 2] Daddy said, “Believe, son — drugs make souls connect,” but Ninner got too high and chose sugar not sex. Bonded his spirit to them fudge-stained crumbs, Now he preach enlightenment with frosting on his thumbs. Bursting, bursting, mic clip heavy, Voice like thunder, chair like Chevy. Milk mustache, grin so holy, Silly straw twist like the path to glory. “I’m transcending, chat… but first” [Verse 3] You talk ascension — I talk digestion, You seek nirvana — I seek your concession. (Surrender, NNR) I drank your shake, yeah, cleaned your cup, While you burst through seams tryna keep up. Fudge crumbs fall like confetti rain, Boota-belly bounce got the chair in pain. Bursting, bursting, that’s your mantra, Livestream loop, same seethe, same stanza. [Hook – chopped & screwed version] Boota-belly, boota-belly (reborn, reborn), Boota-belly, boota-belly (milkshake torn). Boota-belly, boota-belly, burst that frame, Every day go live — same weight, same name.