Spectrum Sound Bitez

Spectrum Sound Bitez

by Black Pearl

Season 20

Dark Seed Hebrew: Children of the chosen ones

Dark Seed Hebrew: Children of the chosen ones. Black Pearl Spectrum Wave Publishing Copyright@2026 Lost sheep, Black men, women, children Kindly pick up Your head and Your Hebrew feet. As you walk to The Creator’s throne, Bow down before Him. It is time to Claim your lineage. The ones who were once fooled With the material, The tangibles— That left you in shambles. Go take a spiritual bath. Goo head, Get your mind right, by Cleansing yourself from your head down to your toes , including to purify your soul. Put your princely robes on. Let your hair and your skin be natural. Come in one accord. It is time to pay homage to the Lord. It is time to understand Who you are / know your wealth You are the Hebrew Children of Lion of Juda You were never a gentile The Star of David Son (king Solomon) Seal of wisdom We’re drawn from The sand while we Held with the sun at the palm of our hands The moon landed beneath our Feet The creator gave birth to us in the water. We are the true chosen ones. We are the Hebrews. We were once called Negroes, a name draped over us like a foreign shroud, Yet we have always been indigenous to the soil of our own spirits. Now, as we stretch out our tents— As we pull the pegs from the past and let the canopy catch the new wind— We no longer stare into the dark pools of Babylon’s nightmare. We no longer turn our skin inside out, searching for the horrors they tattooed there. Babylon’s camp is a fading echo, a ghost-tent collapsing in our rearview. We shake the desert dust from our hems, And the wind carries it back to the captors’ mouths.

Season 19

Caveman: Son Of A Caveman

Caveman Black Pearl by Narrator Jahmala Downer by lyrics Jah Lion Music Production Wazir Wiz Music : Afro beats Spectrum Wave Publishing Copyright@2026 A rhythm for the ages, from Jah Lion Music, thanks for the lyrics. From the broken street, a rhythm born in stone, Here comes a perfect Storm From the apocalypse A man without a face dress in white ; Riding his white horse A course, He delivers a warning: Once was a blessing, It became a man's curse . While the heartbeat primal, brutal, and alone. There stalks a figure, known to all as Kane, Whose very name translates to acid rain. Citizen Kane, they whisper, with a curse, He rides the city like a phantom hearse. Hands over fist, he takes and never asks, A sculptor carving masks from broken tasks. He doesn’t know a better way to be, For he is what the concrete womb sets free. He is the son, the son of a caveman. The lineage is written in his hand. No clever strategies, no clever guise, Just fire in the narrow of his eyes. The name of his game? A treacherous design— To lie, to kill, to steal, to cheat is the bottom line. He jumps the fences, cuts the corners clean, A feral engine, mean and ever-mean. The worst part of him was, in fact, his best: A conscience never stirred within his chest. He shows no shame beneath the city’s lamp, A predator who feeds upon the camp. What do you expect from dust and wrath? He is nothing but the son of a caveman’s path.

Season 18

Fortnight

Fortnight Black Pearl Spectrum Wave Publishing Copyright@2026 Believe it or not— She was our backup main switch. Lady Liberty, asleep in her oxidized skin, a silent statue with circuits within. Her torch, a dormant sun, unlit… yet the current had only just begun. Fortnight. During my graveyard shift, as I looked over my shoulder, I have noticed that Something ain’t right. The system fired the Coast guards, and , the dispatched team Like mainstream media Survival somehow vanished vessels No press release; There goes our anonymous tip. Fortnight Something ain’t right, Who the hell turned off the torchlight? They killed the beacon, dialed down the glow. Unclear, no knock warrants, Wrong house, Imaginary summons, cease and desist, any foreign born No entrance From Lady’s borders. She plunged the harbor into a deeper low. Turn off the lights, light, light. Fortnight. Something ain’t right. Who the hell authorized shut off all the lights? A dead men, whom were once head leaders, including his exiled Saxon Linage all climbs out, not from soil, but from a signed decrees. They rose from their litter box of history, out-foxes some with paperwork and dread, but not all. Not the voices in the tread. They inserted their souls, possessed into Sandman’s head. Similar as Frankenstein, Dead men’s bodies made his power come alive again! Now, no one’s safe here. This is the sweep: Pandemic. Psychological. Spiritual warfare, buried deep. Whenever Sandman’s agents come around, their ink is black, their purpose crowned, all of them are gonna scar her towns. They move in daylight, suits pressed sharp, drawing borders in the dark. Cowards have the nerve, after violation against our first rights— with bullets landed. A woman, a frozen chord in Minneapolis, a melody abruptly scored. In Los Angeles, before the ball drop ( 12/25/25 ) Say his name , For millennial 26, A man’s celebration—a silenced tambourine— thankful for life, in a routine scene. How the hell was joy the crime, met with blights? It was totally unnecessary. Cuffs of code, wipes of screens, Pepper sprayed, guarded chains in data streams. They think the fight is neat, contained, a ledger sorted, pre-explained.

Season 17

SOLDIERS MARCH TO THE LEFT : Quiet Before The Storm

SOLDIERS MARCH TO THE LEFT Black Pearl Spectrum Wave publishing Copyright@2026 Brothers, sisters— Soldiers march from the left of me, always have the best of me. Pull up a chair. Lend me your ear. The topic is poverty. How we can take it Away from those foes , secret elite societies? It is about a single mother who raises four children without a father. She did all that she could, But society and her children could never understood. Parliament provides a supplement for only one, while the other youths fade out of the system. Her first son entered the war. He was her only one, shot down from the front line, except for his untrusted crew. Parliament awarded an honorary medal with a small eulogy. The mother was not allowed to receive his pension, because Parliament failed to comply with the compensation. It was a debt that she owed from the duration of his birth. They taxed his pension. Meanwhile, she and her family resided in the ranking #3 most dangerous slums, a two-duplex apartment. She was determined to beat the system through prostitution. Her middle child earned a degree. She cries when night arrives, for being a street hawk, just trying to stay alive. While she stares at the ceiling, she impatiently waits for her master. While she is on top, a pillow miserly falls over their heads.

Porch-Pirates : Quite Before The Storm

PORCH-PIRATES BLACK PEARL Spectrum Wave Publishing COPYRIGHT@2026 While I was home alone, Somewhere, late at night, I heard a strange knock At my front door. As I blew out my candles, Darkness pretended House and I were suspended. As quiet as it wasl kept, The strangers won’t leave us alone Love to throw stones , but hide their hands When I heard a heavy stomp Upon my wooden floors, I wondered who ever This could be? Please, in 1833 Women like me Bond never free She couldn’t rely on anybody, Including 1885, lady liberty I could not take Any chance against Difficult circumstance Because a woman Like me is never Protected Only collected Allow me to Stand 5 Feet tall Stay well, arm. Give it my all! I stood On my feet Be well woke Because Porch pirates ain’t a joke

Hypocritical Blame Game : Quite Before The Storm

Hypocritical Blame Game Black Pearl Spectrum Wave Publishing Spectrum Sound Bitez Unapologetic Unbroken Banner Copyright@2026 One by one, they hang them dry Sooner or later, you can’t touch the sky 2 x 2, they take away your supply 3 x 3 they are swung us upon a tree 4 x 4, they cannot wait to do it some more 5 x 5 our lives swing from side to side Stories all are the same Because someone else claim It’s a god-awful shame But They love to Point the finger , by playing the hypocritical blame This material belongs to the Property of Spectrum Wave Publishing/ Spectrum Wave Music Entertainment/ Black Pearl copyright@2026

Quiet Before The Storm: Rich Man Raven Warfare

Quiet Before The Storm : Rich Man Raven Warfare Black Pearl Spectrum Wave Publ Copyright@2026 The rich man thrives Like a raven in disguise. He does not care Who loses sight? Raven warfare Until it satisfies— He wants more, More, More, Evermore, Like a whore, Greedy to the core. They do not tend To the needy. Selfish, hate, lust— A dangerous creed. When a rich man Takes from a poor man, He declares a classic war: Rich man raven warfare. Poor man, You'd better buck up. Battle up. Don’t give up the fight. Bob Marley once said, “Get up, stand up For your rights.” Rich man raven warfare. They, too, are craven, Act just like the raven. Day and night, they declare the fight. They desire to have More, More, More. They crave another’s possessions. Rich man raven warfare. Eyes so red, green with envy, Master to destroy, Walls of division were built between. But the poor man Must earn, Learn a trade, Create, innovate, Unite and fight For every man’s rights. While the world sits in depression, The Divine hears The poor man’s confession. Like Gideon, build an altar— Pray, but also fight for what is right. Rich man raven warfare Will lose this war Through lack of knowledge, greed’s deep scar. With the power invested, The poor man’s tears Shall fetch a prophecy: All men will be free. Yet we live in a world Where are they not treated the same? We must end this charade, Burn the rich man’s pockets, Let the saga fade. You won’t hear it On the evening news, But the clash continues— Titans in another war. Poor man, build your Trojan horse. Rich man raven warfare, In high demand, Covets another man’s land. They always want More, More, More. Rich man raven warfare, Dirty whore. As a poor man, Is it survival of the fittest? We will finish strong. Stick around, find out. Fix all businesses. Rich man raven warfare— Always more. Survival is the song. We rise, Though the battle is long.

History Begs for Its Sleep : Spectrum Wave publishing

History Begs for Its Sleep Black Pearl Spectrum Wave publishing Copyright@2025 History demands their rest, But they haven’t slept in weeks. Ever since six-foot-two, orange spray, blond hair, blue eyes— America’s most wanted, a suspect offending the public, He refuses to follow chain commands. On this day, 1/30/2025, blood stains on his hands When aid froze. Monstrous layoffs. $45 million, day by day, from taxpayers’ cash out. $144 for every citizen, month to month. $577 for the average family of four, every month. While West waves from The river beyond the lion’s Seas, Bank on free healthcare, Education subsidized homes, welfare programs. Unfortunately, Red, white, blue Will be Third world soon. Stock crashes— Of course, It’s never his fault. A man lost his job and pension because he was too sick. I would if his Name on St. Nick’s Christmas list Therefore, the future could never reign. Pale-faced man, with his covered hand, has stricken again. Foolish one, riding the stalemate plans. In ten days, his experiences had failed while commoners stand down, observe his rich associates. Sooner or later, no smiles. Similar to NFI— No Friends Left. The same way they dish the subjects. Just wait. Very soon, You shall see: The rich blow out all candles, which leaves them with empty plates. History is tired of hearing the same repeated story. When will average individuals Receive a sweet taste of glory? History begs for its sleep… To be continued. Black Pearl Spectrum Wave publishing Copyright@2025

Season 16

Titian’s Artifacts : Spectrum Wave Publishing

Titan Artifacts Black Pearl Spectrum Sound Bitez Unapologetic Unbroken Banner Spectrum Wave Publishing Spectrum Wave Music Entertainment Copyright@2025 Sleepy hollow chambers Somehow it’s Odd mystery Follow the Titan’s mansion It was epic tragedy Suddenly, He Has spoken Yes, he had spoken to me It makes everyone Questions/Wonders Whom forgot to pay Titan’s ransom For a quarter century Titan life/// legacy Had slumbered Surprise Surprise Grave Robbers’ Could not hardly Believe them own Eyes Rattle snakes Fail to commit Sucide Robbers no longer Could hide away clues From Titan’s Grave to artifacts Including personal alibi Ties them towards All homicidal crimes Now, Dead man Dimmer switch click Granted Titan’s wish Titan finally had woken He even have spoken Claimed the notion Which serpents have stolen All Titan’s artifacts All materials are property to Spectrum Wave Publishing _ Black Pearl copyright@2025

Season 15

Caution Tape: Constitution Is on a High Ransom

Caution Tape: Constitution Is on a High Ransom Black Pearl Spectrum Sound Bitez Unapologetic Unbroken Banner copyright@2025 Alright. Let me take down the caution tape for a minute. I want to talk about the Constitution. Not the paper. The living thing. The law that’s supposed to enlist our freedoms. Provide the framework. But I have to ask: Do we still have it? Do we still have our democracy? Look around. Social media racially profiles us. Foreign governments tell us what we can say. How to behave. I thought we were grown adults. Raised right. We should know how to act. But then you see the other side. The ones supposed to be leaders. Setting examples. They’re not just failing… they’re terrifying. Causing problems. Breaking the protocol. And we’re left here, like children, trying to figure it out on our own.

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