[Verse 1] You said love was sweet, but I’m breaking out You wore that black belt like a paper crown You taught me pain with a smile and a drill Now I flinch when things feel real [Pre-Chorus] I bit into bliss and it bit me back You preached respect while you planned your attack Said “trust the system,” said “earn your keep” Then laughed while I bled on the mat too deep [Chorus] Twizzlers are a symptom, not the cause You fed me sugar just to cover up your flaws You called it culture, called it “the grind” But it’s just a cult in better design [Verse 2] I floss with trauma and brush with regret Tasted your method — still stuck in my chest Said “time on the mat means you’ve earned the floor” But I’ve seen white belts with bigger hearts and more [Pre-Chorus] You wrapped your ego in a worn-out gi Gave me a stripe, then took all of me Told me it’s love, told me I’d grow But love don’t humiliate you for show [Chorus] Twizzlers are a symptom, not the truth It might be Gushers, Monster, or sweet vermouth We all got something we thought was pure Until the gatekeepers showed us the door [Bridge — Spoken, glitched voice] “This passion may contain traces of hazing, hypocrisy, seniority complex, and undealt trauma. Proceed with caution.” [Final Chorus] Twizzlers are a symptom, but not just mine It could be tattoos, guitar strings, or neon signs If you love it, they’ll try to own it But I’d rather burn it than let them clone it
