[Intro – Spoken / Soft flow] Breathe in the brick dust… Streetlight stutters while my syllables spin. Let’s get tangled in the tongue… ⸻ [Verse 1 – Rapid internal rhyme & alliteration] Broke boots blistered, battered by the boulevard, Bitin’ back bars like I’m barkin’ at a bodyguard. Pennin’ pain on pavement, pockets full of panic, Poems in the past tense, patterns turn manic. Mama made me menace with a message in my marrow, Marchin’ through the midnight, mutterin’ in shadows. Wrote woes where the wind whips wrong, With a rhythm that’s rugged and a verse too long. ⸻ [Hook – Double-time flow Say it fast or don’t say it at all, Syllables stick when I’m scribblin’ scrawl. Spin six stories in a sixteen set, Still stitch scars in a cigarette breath. I ain’t bitter, I’m bitten, built from blizzards and bricks, Bouncin’ off beats with ballistic linguistics. Grind got grime in the gutterlight glare, But I rhyme like I’m runnin’ with razors in air. ⸻ [Verse 2 – Complex wordplay, breath control] Heart full of hiccups, homegrown havoc, Hopin’ hope holds while I hack through static. Lost love left like a lens with a crack, Lookin’ back, I was looped in a lyrical trap. Basements birthed this beast with a bible of bars, Burnin’ every beat with a blistering scar. Truth twisted, tangled in telepathic tracks, Tryna talk to time but it never talks back. ⸻ [Hook – Repeat with high intensity] Say it fast or don’t say it at all, Syllables stick when I’m scribblin’ scrawl. Spin six stories in a sixteen set, Still stitch scars in a cigarette breath. I ain’t bitter, I’m bitten, built from blizzards and bricks, Bouncin’ off beats with ballistic linguistics. Grind got grime in the gutterlight glare, But I rhyme like I’m runnin’ with razors in air. ⸻ [Bridge – Staggered / Echo flow] Lowlife lullabies… Leakin’ letters like lullin’ lies. Let the ledger load my loss, I’m a language lab rat with a crooked cross. ⸻ [Outro – Whispered / Fading twist] Tell Sammy I’m still slippin’ syllables slow, Still stitchin’ scenes in the snow below. This ain’t rap—it’s wreckage in rhythm, Twistin’ tongues ’til the truth is given.
