[Intro] (Heavy distorted bass drops in) (Scoffing laugh) (Breathy) Yeah... you still talking? "Heaviest bass alert" It’s honestly pathetic at this point. Check it. "Mocking Snappy guitar kicks" [Verse 1] (Breathy) Talk all you want, run your mouth till it’s dry, But you’re looking at a mountain while you’re standing knee-high. "The girl fell off the mountain in the Horizon game in record time" "Lamenting hymnal series for the pathetic loser" (Breathy) I called you a freak, and you leaned in and agreed? (Whispered) That’s a hell of a white flag for a "rival" to bleed. (Whispered) Where’s the comeback? Where’s the spark in your soul? "Heavenly guitars tear their strings" (Breathy) You’re a ghost in the hallway, losing control. (Whispered) Following my shadow through the streets and the grime, (Breathy) To catch my momentum, you’d have to turn back time. "The Terminator theme got a rewrite five minutes ago" (Scoffing laugh) [Verse 2] (Whispered) You’re biting my style, every reckless mistake, But your "art" is a fraud, and your spirit is fake. "Distorted 808s turn into pop music" Go swipe daddy’s plastic for a beat that’s refined, (Whispered) But you can’t buy a pulse for that hollowed-out mind. "Elongated pee-nis gets himself an island" (Scoffing laugh) (Breathy) There’s a void where your heart should be—cold, and so thin, While I’m wearing the scars of the wars I’ve been in. "The music turns into an understanding system of law and function" (Breathy) You’re playing at "artist," I’m surviving the pain, (Breathy) You’re just a light drizzle; I’m the hurricane. [Chorus] No dignity, no shame, just a life on the shelf, You’re so lost in my shadow that you've forgotten who you are. "Ancient drums break and burst no matter how hard they hit it" No potential wifey, no you are sight, (Whispered) Just a bitter reflection in the middle of the night. "Dark Goth musicians get cancelled again" I’m the king of this tragedy, you’re just the guest, (Whispered) Go and pay for your playback—I’ll handle the rest. [Outro] (Beat strips back to a lonely, echoing snare) No life. No soul. Just a receipt for a beat you didn't even make. (Breathy) How’s that feel? "X turns into Twitter once again after the truth is exposed as isra-ex" (Fade to silence)
