Last Credits (Improved)

[Intro] Hold up… Don’t waste this one. No regen ‘til tomorrow. No reroll. No extend. This the last credit, —my life on the line. [Verse 1] Opened Suno—saw the number look sick Single digit left, felt my heart do a flip Every bad prompt hit me like a loss in the trap Every “almost perfect” felt like a bullet in the back Can’t burn one testing if the hook too flat Can’t burn one checking if the snare too fat Can’t waste one changing one word in a line Now every syllable fighting just to survive Cursor blinking like “You sure this the one?” Whole beat sounding different When the meter say one I ain’t making art now This survival rap Whole album vanished Now I’m down to scraps [Pre-Chorus] Last credit Last credit Say a prayer then send it No preview No second thought Whole career in one shot— Or I’m back in the dirt [Chorus] I’m making this rap On my last credits One generation left No aesthetics One more click One more spin If this one misses I’m done for real, man This ain’t inspiration This is panic with rhythm I’m writing like the server Already forgot I existed Last credit Last credit Make it bang, don’t regret it Or it’s over—my life in these credits [Verse 2] Started deleting adjectives mid-verse Like “do I really need that word, fool?” Cut three lines, saved one rhyme Somehow the whole thing hit harder this time Now I’m a monk with prompts, minimalist savage Impossible wants, but I’m locked in the madness No strings No brass No twelve-part choir No layered harmony cathedral fire Just give me kick Give me bass Give me one clean hook that’ll smash they face Funny thing though— Pressure got me zoned in Whole month clicking random This one got real intention [Bridge – spoken / filtered, aggressive] [build up] Generate. Wait. Loading… Please don’t suck. Please don’t suck. Please— …oh. Wait. This shit kinda goes. [massive Drop] [Verse 3] Funny how the number changed the way I write Fifty credits deep I was throwing shit like dice Ten left and suddenly I’m sharpening knives Reading every line like somebody finna die Now I’m muting whole sections ‘fore they even born Asking “does this clap really add to the storm?” Removed six words and somehow gained punch Turned abundance into a closed-fist crunch Got that last-credit vision Tunnel-eye focus Every bad decision In slow motion, hopeless Should I chase the weird? Or play it safe in the trap? Do I make the song Or make the song that brings it back? Cursor blinking like a bomb timer Hit generate and pray I become a survivor Progress circle spinning like roulette wheel chrome Watching percentages like a trapper watching the stove Then the beat came back Wrong… but alive Hook came in sideways Verse caught fire And I laughed like “THAT’S what I was saving?” Whole month throwing darts Last credits did the aiming [Final Chorus] Made this whole rap On my last credits One generation left No edits No reroll No safety net Just me and the fear And this internet debt Last credit Last credit Hit submit—no hesitation If this one bangs Then I call it salvation If it don’t… Back to the bottom again.