[Intro - radio chatter] Unit three, we’ve got movement in the factory sector. Subject is still standing. Repeat, subject is still standing. Pressure levels are rising. Do not engage the microphone. [Verse 1] Steel-toe soul with a storm in the skeleton, Cold road rolls where the broken men settle in, Smoke-stack city with the lights all flickering, Mind full of wires and the whole grid listening. Concrete lungs in the dust I’m breathing, Clock-in, clock-out, same old sequence, System says smile while the soul starts screaming, Dreams get taxed while the rich keep feeding. I’m not built from the bolts they’re tightening, I’m not fuel for the machine they’re driving, I’m that spark in the dark that’s frightening, SuAdE in the frame with the flame still rising. Pressure gets measured but never gets mentioned, Tension in the chest like a locked suspension, Every little second gets stretched in detention, Time turns sharp when you live under tension. [Pre-Chorus] Can you hear that sound? That’s the ground when it shakes. Can you feel that pulse? That’s the mind when it wakes. [Chorus] I am not your pressure machine, I am not the gears in between, I am not the ghost in your screen, I am fire in a human being. I am not your pressure machine, I am not your broken routine, I am not the cage or the key, I am rhythm and I’m running free. (Pressure machine) (Running free) (Human being) (Set me free) [Verse 2] Industry sickness in the city’s bloodstream, Everybody chasing what the adverts drug-stream, Half-truth headlines with a dead-eyed love scheme, Selling fake peace through a touchscreen sunbeam. Move too quick and the mind starts splitting, Sit too still and the guilt starts dripping, Work hard, break down, keep submitting, Then wonder why the whole damn room keeps spinning. I see patterns in the panic and the profit mechanics, Manic little planets in a black-box attic, Static in the habits of the automatic addicts, Tragic how the magic got packaged in plastic. I’m back with a match and a mad little method, Pen gets pressed and the page gets threatened, Breath gets stretched while the bass gets weaponed, Every bar bends where the pressure gets lessened. I don’t need permission from a cold institution, No fake absolution from a paid execution, Soul pollution needs a rhythm revolution, Heart held hostage by mass confusion. [Pre-Chorus] Can you hear that sound? That’s the ground when it shakes. Can you feel that pulse? That’s the mind when it wakes. [Chorus] I am not your pressure machine, I am not the gears in between, I am not the ghost in your screen, I am fire in a human being. I am not your pressure machine, I am not your broken routine, I am not the cage or the key, I am rhythm and I’m running free. (Pressure machine) (Running free) (Human being) (Set me free) [Bridge - radio chatter] Control, he’s not slowing down. His pulse is syncing with the sirens. The crowd is repeating the hook. The factory lights are failing. [Verse 3] Now the cadence gets dangerous, brainwaves bending, Steel-frame sentence with the kick-drum ending, Millisecond switches and the syllables twisting, Every little ligament is rhythm-resistant. I’m a live-wire writer with a high-fire pilot, Rhyme-line sniper in a mind-mine climate, Time-line split when the right mind finds it, Bright-light violent but the voice stays silent. No screaming needed when the flow gets lethal, Calm voice cuts through the cold cathedral, People need truth but the truth feels illegal, So I paint these bars like graffiti on steeples. I’ve been down where the doubt gets dental, Biting through the brain till the pain feels central, Found one spark in the dark accidental, Then turned that spark into instrumental. Tick-tock trauma with the clock-face cracking, Back-block battler with the heart still backing, One more round when the world keeps laughing, One more breath when the walls start clapping. This is not collapse, this is controlled detonation, Pressure makes diamonds with the right calibration, Pain makes patterns in the soul’s foundation, Rhythm makes freedom from internal vibration. [Final Chorus] I am not your pressure machine, I am not the gears in between, I am not the ghost in your screen, I am fire in a human being. I am not your pressure machine, I am not your broken routine, I am not the cage or the key, I am rhythm and I’m running free. (Pressure machine) (Running free) (Human being) (Set me free) [Outro] Unit three, confirm visual. Subject has left the facility. Repeat, subject has left the facility. No damage to the body. Severe damage to the system.
