[Intro] (Ominous, repetitive piano keys hitting like ice) (Spoken with deep contempt) Look at ‘em... Silk on the skin, but the soul is pure filth. Thinking a brand name can hide the guilt. But the mirror? The mirror doesn’t lie, homie. (Beat drops - Heavy, aggressive 808 blast) [Verse 1 - Raw, choppy flow] Buy a new coat, try to cover the scar, Thinking that logo’s gonna make you a star? Million-dollar outfit, but you’re worth a cent, Talking 'bout respect when your backbone is bent. Expensive kicks, but you’ve got nowhere to go, You sold the very path you were supposed to know. Flexing for the crowd, but you’re begging inside, Where you gonna turn when there’s nowhere to hide? [Chorus - Angry, emphasized] The world is a display and you are just the goods Honour is dead in these neighbourhoods! Gucci on the belt, but your spine’s gonna crack, The streets kill the vermin who stab in the back! It’s not about the Prada, it’s the word that you gave, But your lies are the only thing you’ll take to the grave! [Verse 2 - Faster, more aggressive] Look at the kid, getting blind from the glow, Trapped in a screen with nothing to show. A virtual pack, but they’re ghosts in the rain, Trading their life for a digital chain. You’d snake your own partner for a little bit of change? Sell out your mother for a front-page range? Cynical smile, but I see the panic, Under the mask, your whole face is satanic! [Verse 3 - Cold and Heartless] A million followers, but you’ll die alone, No one’s gonna cry at your funeral stone. Everyone’s a snake, doesn't matter what you do, Betrayal is the only thing that’s coming for you. Your life is on sale, tell me what you’re gonna buy? When the money’s all gone and you’re left there to fry. You’d put your own brother in a hole in the dirt, Just to keep your ego from getting a hurt. [Bridge - Slowing down, menacing] Gold chain on your neck... but your soul’s on a leash. Ice on your wrist... but I’m plotting your peace. Everyone’s for sale, it’s just a matter of price, Playing with your soul using loaded dice. [Chorus - Maximum energy] The world is a display and you are just the goods Honour is dead in these neighbourhoods! Gucci on the belt, but your spine’s gonna crack, The streets kill the vermin who stab in the back! [Outro - Fading out, mocking tone] Take off the rags... and what’s left of you? Nothing. Just an empty hanger. W.Z.N. Project... Keep it real... or don't keep it at all. (Sudden silence)
