[Intro] Short story Heavy weight If it isn’t truth It can wait [Verse 1] Name on the docket Face on the feed They spin a story Never show the bleed Talking like we’re crazy “put away the tinfoil” But the cameras cut out every time it gets real Owen on the line Cadence like a hammer Pacing through the plot Tearing down the glamour “Watch the timing Follow who deletes” Screenshots saved We’ve been stacking receipts [Chorus] Receipts on the table Truth in the light They bury the body We rewind the night You can call it rumor You can call it lies But we got timestamps You just got alibis Receipts on the table Receipts on the— [Verse 2] They say it’s random “tragic little fluke” But the footage jumps Sound cuts Clean mute Phone logs missing Witnesses “relieved” Funny how their stories all perfectly agree We don’t need a script We don’t need a cue We just need the courage not to look away from proof If nothing’s more sacred than the naked fact Why the sealed files Why the redacted black? [Chorus] [Bridge] [low vocal register] Spin that wheel Same game Same channel Same gray suits with the staged candles Mouths full of sorrow Hands on the bible But they fear one thing Documented rivals [spoken Close-mic] So if I’m wrong Show me all the cuts Show me every second that they sliced and shut Open every server Every buried feed ’Til then We’re talking And we’re dropping receipts [Chorus]
