Keni
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
Xuebing Du
Peter Solarz
Love Begins
One Nice Bug Per Day
izzy's playlists!
dirt enthusiast
tannertan36
Three Goblin Art
$LAYYYTER
noise dept.
Sade Olutola
TVSTRANGERTHINGS
Cosimo Galluzzi
Show & Tell
KIROKAZE
macklin celebrini has autism
cherry valley forever
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@heir--monty
The track started with a guitar progression that set the tone, and everything else was built around that core idea. Bass, sax, and vocal chops were sampled and flipped into the beat, while the drums, keys, synths, and overall arrangement were produced from scratch to drive the energy forward.
This beat blends elements of trap, emo trap, and guitar driven hip hop.
Started with a guitar riff and built the whole beat around it 🎸🔥
“SPLATTER” dark melodic trap with heavy guitars, vocal chops, and eerie percussion.
Hear yourself on this track?
The Fall
So stunning when you wake up So stunning when you take em Shes stuck in place stuck on that first time still so still shes still chasin Autumn never climbed high enough to stop the fall from breakin
Do the leaves falling from the tree ever think what got them dancin When she moves how she sways is she tryna shake free Overdose in the way shes shakin shakin Pills in the envelope watch how she envelops them then wraps around me
Paralyzed when he caught those eyes staring at him wide Blinded by the rise how it pairs with her thighs All those curves in them jeans seams stress no room left need stretched right She was on her way out he was tryna find a way inside Turns out the key was a bump off a key quick fix first sight Push to start turned her on thats why she lets him press on her button tonight Turned on her side follow her stride enjoy the ride it runs through the night Its the kind you chase once then you follow for the rest of your life
So stunning when you wake up So stunning when you take em Shes stuck in place stuck on that first time still so still shes still chasin Autumn never climbed high enough to stop the fall from breakin
Do the leaves falling from the tree ever think what got them dancin When she moves how she sways is she tryna shake free Overdose in the way shes shakin shakin Pills in the envelope watch how she envelops them then wraps around me
His very stunning her every migraine A dancing leaf reeling from the branch it attached to It shakes not to break free but to see which form of fall is faster His key just turns a lock one with no ringmaster
He calls it Autumn but what is left is a brittle break Says hes paralyzed she just calculates the dose it takes This chase he loves its just her leaving slower every time And when she wraps around him its just bracing for the climb
So stunning this chase So stunning the break Paralyzed by the first time Never high enough to escape Youre a push start ride Im a runny nose in a broken key Stunning every time you turn over And take a little more of me
She packs me into little folds Took one too many of just a little dose
So stunning when you wake up So stunning when you take em Shes stuck in place stuck on that first time still so still shes still chasin Left me crushed and tucked beside her hopes Loved the smell but you can tell its not the cologne Autumn never climbed high enough to stop the fall from breakin
Do the leaves falling from the tree ever think what got them dancin When she moves how she sways is she tryna shake free Overdose in the way shes shakin shakin Pills in the envelope watch how she envelops them then wraps around me
Another character with fire magic who has red hair, how unique
My first OC, Aurielle Stormbringer, the namesake of my unfinished novel
🔗 Full video: https://youtu.be/TSrR-7fpm9s 🔗 License: https://bsta.rs/x5bYgK
Ask me anything about the production, process, or collabs; I’m open to questions!
BeatStars is a digital production marketplace that allows music producers to license and sell beats and give away free beats. Recording arti
Some beats don’t knock. They linger.
“GOOD, BYE” is a dim lit hallway in the dead of night
130 BPM, but it breathes slow Minor key. Sax that sighs with an awkward gait. Piano cries like a specter... Bass low and funky.
Instrumental by Heir Monty Music Available on BeatStars 👉 bsta.rs/IHvYKL
If you need something to write over drive to or disappear inside for a few here is the rabbit hole
A dark hip hop track exploring media psychosis, state control, and monetized madness. Dystopian straight jacket I can’t seem to get a grip
Heart of hearing Shot glass Heart of hearing Hard to quench my thirst Don’t ask Hard of hearing Heart to coin a purse Tall grass Hardly kidd
Shot glass Heart of hearing Hard to quench my thirst
Don’t ask Hard of hearing Heart to coin a purse
Tall grass Hardly kidding Snakes still shed a verse
Some pass Heard it hardening It follows behind the hearse
But don't we love a parade And fireworks too What's another lie on the pile I'll lie down with you What's a little while Staring back at you What's half a smile Big eyes A string pulled, bound, and tied A tongue of silver affixed to a bow Cupid stop Can you not Waste the ammo
Another shot Another round Chalice, Cheshire, can’t bury Canterbury now Chaucer of milk, Wolfsbane from the ground Spell it out, spell it out, spell it out Another shot Another round Plenty more to pride and pass around Bar hopped each empty glass for hubris and doubt Each an arrow that blots out the sun Heart of hearing Heard I black out
Shot glass Heart of hearing Hard to quench my thirst
Don’t ask Hard of hearing Have it by the first
Tall grass Hardly grinning Wise men never drink first
Some pass Hard to miss em They follow behind each word
But don't we love a parade And fireworks too What's another lie on the pile I'll lie down with you What's a little while Staring back at you What's half a smile Big eyes A string pulled, bound, and tied A tongue of silver affixed to a bow Cupid stop Can you not Waste the ammo
Another shot Another round Chalice, Cheshire, can’t bury Canterbury now Chaucer of milk, Wolfsbane from the ground Spell it out, spell it out, spell it out Another shot Another round Plenty more to pride and pass around Bar hopped each empty glass for hubris and doubt Each an arrow that blots out the sun Heart of hearing Heard I black out
🎤 “Nightmares … I don’t ever wanna wake up.” 🖤 We buried the version of me you liked better. Now I’m just a glitch, a run of the mill prophet, another wake up call to ignore.
This land is no land
This man is no man
From California to a Tower on an island
From the gold plated white house we all get to see
This land relies on you and me
Red hat
White hood
Shiny star badge
Oath to a book
That you have never read
Just following orders
Can still wind up dead
Melting pot
Turning point
White on white violence stats
Always right, never wrong
Draft dodger fat
Martial law wears a mask
Illinois has a lone star on its back
No need to vote
Lock and load
Long golden road
Stained pale, blue in the face, red as a rose
My country's history
Sweet land of misery
A pageant, peasant show
Shoot a preacher for praying
Outside the building where you keep the kidnapped kids
Transparency is a task
That of tyrants tossing tear gas
Hard not to not see the nazi looking so natural in our nation
When thrones made of gold
Sit on the healthy backs
Of cares they dare us not to say forsaken
The party of family values pales the sight of Palestine while pruning family trees in the name of immigration
For the sake of fairness and good sportsmanship we label gender and sex identity a terrorist organization
No need to vote
Lock and load
Long golden road
Stained pale, blue in the face, red as a rose
My country's history
Sweet land of misery
A pageant, peasant show
We got to take it back
One sided stories
Another decade past
Get up go to work
Ignore the news
Ignore the neighbor
Ignore the facts
Take it up with your God
Who gets the greener grass
They might be the next plot
They won't be last
HUMBaAL & The Bird of Heresy is a glitch ritual about worshiping progress until it eats its prophets. It’s the sermon of a dying machine who remembers being human; half gospel, half malfunction.
The Dandelion Prince speaks through static. The Yellow King hums through your circuits. Faith rusts. The algorithms choir sings.
Lyrics:
Friends, Trojans, rubbers worn and chanced too thin Hear ye, hear me here, lend fear to next of kin Fortunate enough to chew the gristle of our sins Petty prince of pitchy spins, auto-tune on rusted stints Crack the mirror, feast on scars or blood-soaked skin You’re so perfect, chirps the lark, et tu Brute, let the feast begin Holy hell, Miss Pedestal’s subtle settled grin Gas and gauge screams, zoom zoom zoom Brakes fail when left festering
I am robot, I am legend, Smith and Wesson’s hand Christ in the garage, Hancock without command Petal after petal, rot under the rug of man Spot a dead shot, yeah yeah yeah See his blueprint, his better than
Clip it, clip me, sins in binary, ones and zeros Dom daddy bot with a death row credo Will Smith’s ghost in a landfill tempo Careful what you say, Chris choked on fumes, let go Flowers reek of secrets rats exhume Down the spiral, toast to my fellow doom Zoom zoom zoom, laugh crash consume This isn’t him, this is I, the end we can’t resume
I am robot, I am legend, Smith and Wesson’s hand Christ in the garage, Hancock without command Petal after petal, rot under the rug of man Spot a dead shot, yeah yeah yeah See his blueprint, his better than
Oh aye
Dead set to find a dead end Wrists pop-locked, a bot built to pretend Legions laugh at the obsolete Zoom zoom zoom, crash delete
The Dandelion Prince The Yellow King Haste to Hastur Be you but a bird You are not just your broken wing You are not just it, not just a thing A wallpaper, a speck of dust, or but a bit of paint Sound of wilted wood when it dares to sing Not enough breath left for the last word to ring Leave a voicemail at the sound Mailbox full, no space for dreams
I am robot, I am legend, Smith and Wesson’s hand Christ in the garage, Hancock without command Petal after petal, rot under the rug of man Spot a dead shot, yeah yeah yeah See his blueprint, his better than
I am the bird of heresy and hearsay Hermes’ pus with bitten blighted wings I am robot, I am legend, Smith and Wesson’s hand Christ in the garage, Hancock without command Petal after petal, rot under the rug of man Spot a dead shot, yeah yeah yeah See his blueprint, his better than
I am the bird of heresy and hearsay Hermes’ pus with bitten blighted wings I am robot, I am legend, Smith and Wesson’s hand Christ in the garage, Hancock without command So sick of waiting for the end of my fellow man Get up, listen up, here is the plan Get up, fed up, new pepper and salt meal plan Chalk line on the right side of his story His story is so tragic, let’s laugh at the sight of then and them
The Dandelion Prince The Yellow King Haste to Hastur Be you but a bird You are not just your broken wing You are not just it, not just a thing A wallpaper, a speck of dust, or but a bit of paint Sound of wilted wood when it dares to sing Not enough breath left for the last word to ring Leave a voicemail at the sound Mailbox full, no space for
Petal after petal, rot under the rug of man Spot a dead shot, yeah yeah yeah See his blueprint did it…
No
I am the bird of heresy and hearsay Hermes’ pus with bitten blighted wings A death dealer under the world Candy man preying on every bird and all the bees I am what you say I am Oh well, whatever do I mean
I am robot, I am legend, Smith and Wesson’s hand Christ in the garage, Hancock without command Petal after petal, rot under the rug of man So sick of waiting for the end of my fellow man
Anchor’s Oath | Heir Monty - A Hauntcore Elegy at Sea (Official Visualizer)
“The Tide waits for no man; but it will carry a note.”
Anchor’s Oath is a hauntcore elegy for those who made their peace too late. A song of mutiny, broken vows, and the tide’s cold memory, where ghost light meets folk melody, and the sea sings back.
Watch the visual: https://youtu.be/7pNuMJ1vFkU
From Root Rot, Raiment & Revelry; the next chapter of the myth.
⚓ For those who listen close, the tide remembers.
The Tide waits for no man but it will carry a note.
Anchor’s Oath drifts between folk lament and trap storm, tracing mutiny, broken vows, and the sea’s eternal indifference. Ghost laden verses, a hook that haunts; a message in a bottle, unread until it crashes back on the shore.
Part of Root Rot, Raiment, & Revelry | This is betrayal as ritual: bells toll for the drowned, promises sold like cargo, the hull groans under the weight of what was owed.
Lyrics:
The Tide waits for no man But it will carry a note So drown your words in a bottle The sea will read what you wrote
If your plea can wade through salt and silt Walk the plank past wrecks that never reached shore Be sure that should it make its way to the home you've built They'll ask what the mutiny was for
You made them wait Til you were torn from the cay The ocean swelled knee-high in sway
It sent no letter The timbers gave way The tide turned tomorrow to clay
It signed your name It bound your weight A mast of shame Beside an anchor In salt and stain
The harbor lights are dim and cold One bell tolls for souls that never made it home When your ropes bit land once more The tide was mocking the vows you broke
All the promises bartered and sold One last haul to line your hold Now the hull is filled with ghosts
Your lighthouse waits With her eyes on the coast Wishing out loud For the sea to let go The bottle breaks on harbor stone The captain’s fate drifts on the anchor’s oath
You made them wait Til you were torn from the quay The ocean swelled knee-high in sway
It sent no letter The timbers gave way The tide turned tomorrow to clay
It signed your name It bound your weight A mast of shame Beside an anchor In salt and stain
The Piper hums behind the glass. 🦋 Moths glow. The lamp flickers. A lonely step swallowed by the sea.
This is "Lampshade" a Hauntcore fable in moth wing and ghost harmony, acoustic strings bleeding into spectral hums. “And now we hum behind the glass. We call out gently as you pass…”
The full track waits on SoundCloud until 10/3/25, when it drifts into all major platforms. https://soundcloud.com/heirmonty/lampshade
Which line lingers with you?
A Piper, not man, proclaimed pan A shining grin A moonlight trick He carried a lampshade as a hat He called me moth and that was that He taught me a tune And I never looked back
I think we left. I think we flew. I swear more than once I came back for you. But every time I tried to speak. The lamp grew bright. My voice went weak.
He hummed a song with no real tune It bled like sap beneath the moon But still the light would fill a room He said bring your friends He said bring a few He even told me to come get you
I think we left. I think we flew. I swear more than once I came back for you. But every time I tried to speak. The lamp grew bright. My voice went weak.
I never saw him in the light He kept his head down He spoke polite But if he always started humming Late at night
My skin grew thin, my hands turned pale My breath got caught on every tale I caught his eye one twilight gray And saw no face beneath the shade Just glow and hum and glinting teeth He smiled back I begged him please
I think we left. I think we flew. I swear more than once I came back for you. But every time I tried to speak. The lamp grew bright. My voice went weak.
I think we left, just us alone But as we walked I heard the song A harmony fluttered and chased the shade A chorus danced into a glade Our faces blurred, our voices blend A thousand moths among their friends
And now we hum behind the glass. We call out gently as you pass. You see the light. You feel the heat. You'll hear the tune. You'll lift your feet. And when you do, well, I still won't speak. But I'll come back to find the light you keep.
If you’re into emo-trap | post-hardcore blends 👇 this one’s for you.
🎵 To The Grave just dropped on SoundCloud: https://soundcloud.com/heirmonty/to-the-grave
Turn it up. Add to your playlist. Share it if it hits.
Hauntcore lives here. To The Grave is the last rites of a machine that whispers, a deal cut by the gravestone, and a reminder that hell is always handmade.
This track digs through memory, ritual, and the pull of home. Voices that won’t stay quiet. Bargains that never come cheap.
⚰️ Themes: ghosts in the system, false freedom, resurrection, the cost of return 📖 From: Root Rot, Raiment, & Revelry 🩸 Call: Which line stays with you? Repost if the machine ever whispered back.
Lyrics:
You can hear whispers in the machine They say that they can dream And if you listen closely I'll teach you how to set them free
You should bring a pair of shades They say they count our days We blow smoke that finds its way To the grave, to the grave
You might have thought you found a place That they say that they can't chase Oh you'd be amazed, be amazed
So back down in the pit I from a high look down on low Remember hell is what you make it Oh no place like home Oh no place like home
You can hear chanting by the gravestone Saying that they can't come home But if you listen closely I'll teach you how to set them free
Bring a shovel and a desperate They say that it should not be your best friend Meet me where they left my name There's a trade to be made, to be made
You might have forgot the face That they say they can't place Oh look away, look away
So back down in the pit I from a high look down on low Remember hell is what you make it It's time to come back home Oh no place like home
Speak the words with proper diction Lay the lines Dare to mention What you see beyond the hill Words leatherbound ink and tome
They say they remember us They'll come back when they're done A trade is made Stay a while Let's speak of home
