Scroll.

viral tik tok, ai, tech, hip hop twist, cool vibe, male and female singers, teens/young adult

Scroll.
Bruise.
Replay it slower.
Laugh track wired to a broken shoulder.
Kids watch pain before they learn to read,
Call it highlights, call it entertainment feed.
Blood on the court, clipped to a beat,
Ad revenue sleeps while the damage eats.
“Safe for all ages,” just blur the frame,
Adult intent hiding under a kid’s game.
Pre-Chorus
Why do we cheer when the body breaks?
Why do we smile when a scream vibrates?
You say it’s just sports, just jokes, just play—
But your nervous system doesn’t feel that way.
Chorus
Why do we laugh when somebody falls?
Why do we stare at the blood on the walls?
Why do we share it, loop it, replay the pain,
Then wonder why empathy feels strained?
You can almost feel it—
The bone, the tear, the shock, the freeze.
If pain’s the content, what does that say
About what we’re training our minds to need?
Verse 2
Nothing reviewed.
Nothing slowed.
Straight to the feed, straight to the throat.
Algorithms don’t ask “Should this be?”
They ask “How long before they bleed?”
Real?
Fake?
Staged?
AI?
You don’t even pause—just swipe it by.
Once it’s unique, it explodes, it spreads,
Then it’s copied till it’s dead.
Pre-Chorus 2
Shock wears off, so it needs more force,
More impact, more flesh, more torque.
Novelty dies, the bar gets raised,
Till violence is normal and calm feels strange.
Chorus
Why do we laugh when somebody falls?
Why do we stare at the blood on the walls?
Why do we teach this without a word,
Then act surprised when kids act blurred?
You say it’s harmless, just passing time—
But time is the one thing you never rewind.
Bridge (Spoken / Minimal Beat)
Toddlers.
Teens.
Adults in suits.
Seniors locked in assisted rooms.
Doctors scrolling.
Nurses too.
Wheelchairs parked with nothing new.
Different bodies.
Same stare.
Same screen glowing everywhere.
Zombies isn’t an insult—it’s a state,
Eyes open, minds sedated.
Break
That screen isn’t killing time—
It’s stealing it.
Stealing curiosity.
Stealing creation.
Stealing the energy your brain needs
To become something.
Verse 3
Your brain is plastic, it learns what you feed it,
Loops become law if you constantly seed it.
You’re not relaxing, you’re being trained,
Rewarded for watching someone else’s pain.
Cells trying to build, adapt, evolve—
Starved while the scroll gets solved.
You’re not bored.
You’re overdosed.
On stimulus that gives nothing back the most.
Final Chorus
There’s gotta be more than watching lives
Crash and burn just to feel alive.
More than screens stealing your fire,
Calling it content while draining desire.
You weren’t born to spectate decay,
Or rent your attention away every day.
Put the screen down.
Pick something up.
Your life is the thing that should blow up.
Outro
If it’s not feeding your mind,
It’s feeding on it.
If it’s not building your future,
It’s borrowing it.
And time won’t warn you.
It just moves on.
So ask yourself—
What did you become while you watched everyone else?

2915/7500

Scroll. Bruise. Replay it slower. Laugh track wired to a broken shoulder. Kids watch pain before they learn to read, Call it highlights, call it entertainment feed. Blood on the court, clipped to a beat, Ad revenue sleeps while the damage eats. “Safe for all ages,” just blur the frame, Adult intent hiding under a kid’s game. Pre-Chorus Why do we cheer when the body breaks? Why do we smile when a scream vibrates? You say it’s just sports, just jokes, just play— But your nervous system doesn’t feel that way. Chorus Why do we laugh when somebody falls? Why do we stare at the blood on the walls? Why do we share it, loop it, replay the pain, Then wonder why empathy feels strained? You can almost feel it— The bone, the tear, the shock, the freeze. If pain’s the content, what does that say About what we’re training our minds to need? Verse 2 Nothing reviewed. Nothing slowed. Straight to the feed, straight to the throat. Algorithms don’t ask “Should this be?” They ask “How long before they bleed?” Real? Fake? Staged? AI? You don’t even pause—just swipe it by. Once it’s unique, it explodes, it spreads, Then it’s copied till it’s dead. Pre-Chorus 2 Shock wears off, so it needs more force, More impact, more flesh, more torque. Novelty dies, the bar gets raised, Till violence is normal and calm feels strange. Chorus Why do we laugh when somebody falls? Why do we stare at the blood on the walls? Why do we teach this without a word, Then act surprised when kids act blurred? You say it’s harmless, just passing time— But time is the one thing you never rewind. Bridge (Spoken / Minimal Beat) Toddlers. Teens. Adults in suits. Seniors locked in assisted rooms. Doctors scrolling. Nurses too. Wheelchairs parked with nothing new. Different bodies. Same stare. Same screen glowing everywhere. Zombies isn’t an insult—it’s a state, Eyes open, minds sedated. Break That screen isn’t killing time— It’s stealing it. Stealing curiosity. Stealing creation. Stealing the energy your brain needs To become something. Verse 3 Your brain is plastic, it learns what you feed it, Loops become law if you constantly seed it. You’re not relaxing, you’re being trained, Rewarded for watching someone else’s pain. Cells trying to build, adapt, evolve— Starved while the scroll gets solved. You’re not bored. You’re overdosed. On stimulus that gives nothing back the most. Final Chorus There’s gotta be more than watching lives Crash and burn just to feel alive. More than screens stealing your fire, Calling it content while draining desire. You weren’t born to spectate decay, Or rent your attention away every day. Put the screen down. Pick something up. Your life is the thing that should blow up. Outro If it’s not feeding your mind, It’s feeding on it. If it’s not building your future, It’s borrowing it. And time won’t warn you. It just moves on. So ask yourself— What did you become while you watched everyone else?

0/500