Id:

688caa593f6781f5b39d4c9cdb622ff0ac16281c52186e9f2a6b8b7ee9f98bfa

Prompt:

A is tuned to 432 hertz. A crazy deathcore hardcore song with the guitars in Drop D tuning and the drummer has a double bass pedal. I want this song to have crazy sick guitar solos and melodies then just have insane half time breakdowns. You can even try to implement quarter time breakdowns of rhythms if it makes sense. We want nasty and guttural. The lyrics can be about not losing yourself to clout and letting the clout demons get you. Clout is so powerful but it is not real. That is the ultimate deciding factor. Most people will sell their souls for clout which means ditching their friends and family. Clout is just something that is earned from gaining traction as an artist from getting populariity. Don't get lost in the sauce. A real hero can gain fame and sustain. That's the name of the game. Pimp shit. Real hitta's only, ya feel me? I think you get it. My guy. So make this song so frickin' sick it sets all the car alarms off outside my apartment in the city.

Image:

Description:

In the image, a man is standing in front of a guitar, fully engrossed in playing a song. He is wearing a hoodie and appears to be a musician, possibly a deathcore or hardcore artist. The guitar is prominently featured in the foreground, with the man's hands skillfully maneuvering the strings. The scene captures the essence of the song's theme, which is about not losing oneself to clout and the dangers of succumbing to the allure of fame. The man's passionate performance and the guitar's powerful sound create an immersive atmosphere, inviting the listener to join him in his musical journey.

Songs:

Lyrics:

Title: Clout Demons
Tags: Deathcore, Hardcore, Aggressive, Chaotic, Distorted, Scream, Drop D Guitar, Double Bass Drums

[Intro]
(Ahhhhrgghhh!)
432 Hz but I feel off pitch — let’s go!

[Verse 1]
Used to spit truth in a soundproof tomb,
Now they sell souls just to fill a room.
Fake smiles for the digital crown,
Real ones ghosted when the lights went down.

[Pre-Chorus]
See the fame fiend twitch with the likes,
Trading love for stats and spikes.
Drip too cold, but the soul is numb,
How many hearts have you outrun?

[Chorus]
Clout demons circle, whisperin’ lies,
Feeding your ego 'til your real self dies.
Don’t get lost in that plastic fame,
It ain’t power — it’s just a name.

[Guitar Solo]
(Face-melter — neck-snappin’ shred!)

[Breakdown - Half Time]
Sellin’ out your brother for a shout-out?
Real ones bled — now you duckin’ clout.
This the game? You just a pawn.
We built kingdoms while you chase cons.

[Verse 2]
Ghost of a friend in a viral clip,
Used to be tight — now you barely exist.
Chasin’ heat in an algorithm pit,
Lost yourself for a chance to trend it.

[Bridge - Quarter Time Breakdown]
Quartered by quarters, likes turn lethal,
Fake fans cheer, real ones get medieval.
Clout ain’t currency — it’s a curse,
Ditch your fam, now rehearse your hearse.

[Chorus]
Clout demons circle, whisperin’ lies,
Feeding your ego 'til your real self dies.
Don’t get lost in that plastic fame,
It ain’t power — it’s just a name.

[Outro - Big Finish]
Real hitta's rise through storm and shame,
Earned their light, didn’t torch the flame.
432 Hz — tune to truth, not hype,
Fame sustains when the soul’s aligned.

[End]