Split tongue, a loaded gun. Nothing rhymes when my mind is numb. I spit doubt, with or without, knowing what hell I’m even writing about. I’m the whisper in the wire, a glitch in the game, Saboteur in your system, the venom in your flame. I’m the “what if,” the “why try,” the pressure to pause, The crack in your cover when you don’t treasure the cause. You’re building a brand—I’m cracked in the code, Blocked by fake limits, I fracture the load. I’m the ghost of karma in a smug disguise, I drown in drama—I’m doubt weaponized. I don’t know why I doubt myself, I tear down walls but then my thoughts go south. Split tongue truths, got me second guessing, One speaks war, the other’s confessing. I’ve bled in silence, broke in stride, Stared down doubt with eyes opened wide. You talk in echoes—I move in proof, Deceive with your riddles, I stab with the truth. You whisper “quit,” and I answer “go,” You feed on fear—I don’t let it grow. I’ve failed, I’ve cracked, I’ve lost, I’ve bled— But I rise from ashes you fear to tread. I don’t know why I doubt myself, I tear down walls but then my thoughts go south. Split tongue truths, got me second guessing, One speaks war, the other’s confessing. But I’ve stood too long in this shadow game, And I’m done letting doubt rewire my name. I don’t know why I doubt myself, I tear down walls but then my thoughts go south. Split tongue truths, got me second guessing, One speaks war, the other’s confessing. Split tongue. One truth. One voice. Mine.
