[Intro – cold, sparse piano hits like Rap God, then snaps] I’m beginnin’ to feel like a lost god, lost god All my people from the front to the back nod, back nod Now who thinks their arms are long enough to slap-box this algorithm? Slap-box [Verse 1 – full rapid-fire] William Berry, city-boy carrier of unpopular opinions, Gamer with a gripe for the industry’s diminishing dimensions, Opinionated, determined, passionate, a passionate penance, Lost from God 09, still grindin’ while the algorithm’s indifferent. Pentakill reactions stacked, Lightbringer acoustic tracks, Edge of Night, Conqueror, Last Chapter concert flashbacks, Ren reactions, Inpatient, Caskets, Down the Road, Starry Nights, Musical essays spillin’ out like blood on the mic, fight or flight. Suno tracks in the void, Don’t Hate Me, Desire, Showing Up, Alone in the quiet nights, constellations I used to color up, Point of Reference framework, five strata deep, Level 1 to 5, Cosmological baseline to macro-system, keepin’ the truth alive. I’m the failed YouTuber still uploadin’ while the views stay low, Grandpa now, skipped the dad phase, growin’ up on the go, Liberal leanin’ degenerate, bussy-hunter self-own in the bio, Wannabe writer with dreadful grammar still swingin’ for the title. Lost&Found every Saturday, nature, warrior, liberalism themes, KIA and the crew, lightwarrior, EZ317 in the stream, Van life dream in two years, creative playground in between, City boy with far-from-popular views still tryin’ to be seen. [Verse 2 – denser, faster] I spit technical multilayered meaning while the beat’s still breathin’, Multi-syllabic internal schemes leave the average listener seethin’, Rap God pace, six minutes of pure aggression with no relief in, I’m the lost soul gamer who turned Suno into a second religion. Industry gripes like a chronic condition, positive topics mixed in, Reaction culture confession, algorithm exile I’m still livin’ in, POR theory as a diagnostic weapon against devolved logic spin, Zoom levels out of sync, conflict born from the lens you’re seein’. I’m alone in the quiet nights, fevered brush on the night sky, Stitchin’ signals through the dark while the views keep passin’ by, From League of Legends to philosophical essays in the same breath, From “My Stupid Mouth” to “In The Void,” still dancin’ with death. William Berry, lost to God, still preachin’ from the digital pulpit, 2.8K and climbin’ while the bigger channels try to pull it, Opinionated city boy with a framework thicker than the plot, Rapid-fire aggressively delivered, never droppin’ a single thought. I’m the gamer who made his mark by never pretendin’ he was perfect, Failed YouTuber with a grandpa heart still searchin’ for the purpose, Suno resurrection of the self, reaction as modern confession, Lost from God but found in the rhyme, this is my aggression session. [Outro – slow down then explode] I’m beginnin’ to feel like a lost god, lost god All my people from the front to the back nod, back nod Now who thinks their arms are long enough to slap-box this algorithm? Slap-box… slap-box… William Berry… still here… still spit… Lost to God… but never lost the grip.
