[Intro | Low Spoken | Close-Mic | Free Rhythm]

Ink in my veins, sink full of razors in rhythm

Think tanks tank while the whole tank fills with victims

Signals move silent, little circuits in the sentence

Quiet storm loading before rhythm turns weapon

[Pause | Almost Whispered]

I don’t hate the machine

I hate that I need it

I call it a cage

Then charge it and feed it

[Verse 1 | Tight 16th-Note Flow | Dense Technical Pocket]

Ink in my veins like a sink full of razors

Think tanks tank while I shrink in the basements

Basement mentality, federal penalty energy

Headlines medicate everyone chemically

Serotonin owned by a phone with a cracked screen

Backed-up dreams in a tax-funded bad dream

[Flow Switch | Stutter Pocket | Sharper Attack]

Fact-check?

I fact-checked the fact-checker’s bias

Then spun in the silence like Wi-Fi inside us

Binary diary, zeros and heroes

Stereo fear sold clean and sterile

Merit went hysterical, barely numerical

Burial plot shared with a miracle commercial

[Flow Switch | Heavier Bounce | More Aggressive]

They said “be patient,” I patented panic

Manic mechanics, planet-sized damage

Banquet of bankrupt CEOs eating the planet

While I eat canned hope with my back to the cabinet

Ceramic veneer over fear I inherit

A polished-up panic they marketed as merit

[Half-Time Drop | Punch Each Line]

Said I’d rebel

but I budgeted rage

Put revolution

on layaway

minimum wage

Minimum cage

invisible prison

Division repackaged

as televised vision

[Return To Tight Flow]

Listen, I’m in it, complicit, addicted

Convicted by cookies I willingly clicked on

[Stop-Start Flow | Dry Delivery]

I know the trap

I drew the map

I signed the terms

Then blamed the app

[Hook | Chantable | Sarcastic | Bigger Pocket]

Mad at the machine but I feed it my data

Tweet that I hate it, then rate it five stars later

Scroll through the smoke while the system gets richer

Late-stage living, everybody’s a fixture

[Hook Repeat | More Vocal Stack]

Mad at the machine but I feed it my data

Tweet that I hate it, then rate it five stars later

Crown made of chrome on a throne made of rent

Everybody broke but pretending content

[Verse 2 | Syncopated Pocket | More Swing]

Click-bait fate at the algorithm altar

Sacrificial thought caught digital slaughter

Waterboard boredom with scrolling disorder

Pouring dopamine straight through the border

[Flow Switch | Tighter Internal Rhymes | Breathless]

Borderline headline dread fed in my head

Said I’d be better, instead I just bled

On a thread in a feed designed to mislead

While I beg my own screen for proof I’m ahead

[Half-Time Sarcastic Drop]

Ahead of what?

Debt in a tux with a grin

Interest whispers

“Come enter within”

Within reason

treason’s a seasonal fashion

Cash in compassion

then ration the rations

[Flow Switch | Choppy Triplet Bounce]

I lash for attraction, get traction from captions

Fracture attention, call damage “engagement”

Mention redemption, extension of tension

Pension suspended, one late payment

[Slower Pressure | More Personal]

Rent in my ribs

stress in my molars

Landlord dreams

and corporate donors

I vent like a prophet

then shop like a hostage

Add one more comfort

to soften the voltage

[Return To Dense Flow | Controlled Anger]

I meant to dismantle the mantle and handle

The scandal, but sampled the scandal instead

Gambled on grammar, got hammered by glamour

Then branded my anger and sold it as dread

Cameras pan famine, then hand it to brands

Banner ads tan our demands into trends

A friend of a friend with a lens in a den

Will edit your sins till the cycle begins

[Hook | Chantable | Sarcastic | Wider Drums]

Mad at the machine but I feed it my data

Tweet that I hate it, then rate it five stars later

Scroll through the smoke while the system gets richer

Late-stage living, everybody’s a fixture

[Hook Repeat | Slightly More Desperate]

Mad at the machine but I feed it my data

Tweet that I hate it, then rate it five stars later

Crown made of chrome on a throne made of rent

Everybody broke but pretending content

[Verse 3 | Rapid Chain | Double-Time | Clean Diction]

Sin-tax syntax intact in a flash

Cash-app cashback on backlash and ash

Ashes to assets, I gaslight the casket

Ask if I’m drastic, fantastic, I mask it

[Flow Switch | Mechanical Triplet Sprint]

Mask off? Nah, I auction the oxygen

Logged in, locked in, toxic and boxed again

Confidence sponsored by rented accomplishments

Panic looks polished when packaged as providence

I plunder the thunder, then wonder who done this

Funded the funnel, then run from the function

Done with the pundits, the punches, the pageants

Still click the link when they dress it in damage

[Flow Switch | Stop-Start Punches]

Outrage produced

then packaged and budgeted

Judge it

then love it

then rush to republish it

Publish and punish

and push it to trending

Bend every ending

to flatter pretending

[Flow Switch | Fast Again | Rising Intensity]

Trending? I’m trembling, selling adrenaline

Just to feel human, just to feel relevant

Every hot take comes sealed in a template

Even my rage got approved by the entrance

I call it rebellion, polish the evidence

Pose with the wound till the wound becomes elegant

Say that I’m different, then move with the regiment

Marching in circles through sponsored resentment

[Hard Break | Spoken-Rap | Minimal Drums]

I am the product

I am the pitch

I am the glitch

That keeps asking which

Side of the screen

Still counts as living

When every free thing

Costs what I’m giving

[Final Hook Mutation | Bitter | Half-Time | Less Drums]

Mad at the machine but I gave it my name

Swore I’d escape it, then paid for the cage

Scrolled through the smoke till the mirror got richer

Late-stage living, everybody’s a fixture

Mad at the machine but I fed it my face

Called it convenience, then called it a chase

Crown made of chrome on a throne made of rent

Everybody broke but performing content

[Final Verse | Collapse | Slower Delivery | Less Performance]

Later I claim

I was framed by the frame

Blame the whole game

while I play it for fame

Name on a playlist

faceless and nameless

Aimless but famous

for flaming the flameless

[Return To Rap | Controlled But Cracking]

I spit it acidic and vivid, but live it?

I pivot to comfort the second it’s risky

Critics say genius, I grin at the gimmick

Cynical, clinical, miracle mimic

[Half-Time Emotional Drop]

Maybe the marble

will crack when it’s pressed

Maybe the rest of us

rest when we’re stressed

Maybe the best revolution’s a breath

We take back from debt collectors’ chest

Maybe the first real act of resistance

Is sitting alone without buying assistance

Maybe the quiet

is sharper than posting

Maybe I’m tired

of branding my hopeless

[Near Spoken | No Beat For First Two Lines]

No post

No proof

No brand

No booth

Just rent

Just fear

Just me

Still here

[Outro | Deadpan Spoken | Dry | No Reverb Drama]

No metaphor.

Rent due.

And I’m past due too.

I don’t sleep, I bargain with the plaster
Four walls lean in like they heard me answer
Paint curls loose where I buried the panic
Thoughts talk back in a voice I can’t manage

They know…
They know…

My thoughts don’t leave when the lights go out
I look calm, but I’m cracking now
Old regrets found a brand-new mouth
They know my name, they know my house

My mind wakes up when the room goes still
I run from pain, but it knows the drill
Left my peace where the damage hid
Now every night comes back to dig

I put pain in a drawer, then the drawer started knocking
Old bones kept time till the hinges started talking
Said “I’m good” so long that the lie got polished
Then truth walked in limping with its eyes wide open

I dodged every call from the man I buried
Carried guilt like a casket I married
Laughing with people while the panic gets scary
Face says “steady,” but my pulse says “barely”

Kitchen light flickers at three in the morning
Cold coffee, old bills, no warning
Phone on the table with names I’m ignoring
One little buzz and the whole room swarming

Memory drills in measured little patterns
Boots in my skull till the floorboards shatter
Filed all my pain under “none of it matters”
It climbed back up like it built the ladder

I’m a wrecked-out engine with a showroom shine
A composed little ruin with a do-not-cross line
Every joke I crack got a bruise behind
Every “I’m fine” sounds like proof I’m alive

I keep changing the locks
But it knows where I stay
I keep scrubbing my palms
But the red won’t go away

New room, same war
Old wound, fresh floor
I just want one night
Where my head don’t keep score

My head’s under construction, no helmet, no caution
Tape on the exits of coffins I’m walking
Lost in the logic of problems I softened
Till they hardened in quiet and cut me too often

I count every flaw like expenses and taxes
Stack up the shame in invisible brackets
Try to act balanced while habit attacks it
Calm in the room with a crash in the attic

I study every syllable, signal, and sentence
A pause in the middle, a change in the ending
One period lands and becomes evidence
My mind builds a courtroom from six seconds missing

I don’t need enemies, I manufacture pressure
Inner voice neat with surgical precision
Cuts through my confidence, grins at the wreckage
Then calls it protection like that makes it better

Too proud to collapse, too tired to carry
Too numb to cry, too awake to bury
Too used to weight to admit that it’s heavy
Too good at normal to notice I’m empty

I turn pain into patterns, patterns to cadence
Cadence to armor, armor to statements
Statements to stages, stages to payment
Still can’t buy back all the peace that I wasted

So I sharpen the sentence and bend every vowel
Put nerve in the meter, put teeth in the sound
If I go down, I’m describing the ground
With enough damn detail that they feel when I drown

Some nights I don’t know my reflection
I just see damage dressed like protection
But if my voice still shakes in the wreckage
That means something survived the infection

Lost people, lost time, lost pieces
Lost faith in clean little reasons
But my chest still lifts when the walls move close
So the grave never got what it wanted the most

I keep changing the locks
But it knows where I stay
I keep scrubbing my palms
But the red won’t go away

One room, no sound
Lights off, thoughts loud
I don’t need a crowd
They’re screaming now

My thoughts don’t leave when the lights go out
I look calm, but I’m cracking now
Old regrets found a brand-new mouth
They know my name, they know my house

My mind wakes up when the room goes still
I run from pain, but it knows the drill
Left my peace where the damage hid
Now every night comes back to dig

They know my name
They know my house
I lock the door
They still get out

They know my name
They know my house
I built these walls
They still found out

My thoughts…
I carry them everywhere

I didn’t win
I’m just still here

And some nights
That’s the hardest victory