[Intro] A dot Teller Lobby: zero Last thread: sixty-one days cold Friend list: all gray [Verse 1] I read the room by the exits before my soles touched the floor Old posts held fingerprints, hand-me-down code hardened into lore Built from patience and scraped knuckles, no shortcut through the door Ten winters in wrong rooms taught me what a locked gate is for Veteran blocked the doorway, top decks fanned across his stock Gatekeeping every gateway, white-knuckle grip on the lock Glass ceiling turned the threshold to a snare, every knock came back dead That version died then and there, halfway through the thread New kid queued twice that week, got stomped without a word No guide, no critique, just top cards thrown to make him look absurd No lesson in the matchup, just a warning from the throne No “learn the game” follow-up — only “stay beneath my zone” He didn’t teach a single thing, just proved who owned the night “You ain’t ready” came with a sting — ego dressed as right Kid stopped posting in the chat, name gone before noon One more profile turned a stat — one less light inside the room [Chorus] Ghost-screaming in the lobby, every name receding gray Gatekept every stranger till nobody left to stay Now they stream a vacant kingdom while the server rots away Self-defeating kings built their own digital tomb today [Verse 2] Second figure framed a case from text, Facebook paragraphs came in stacks One cropped image, zero context — crowd already swung the axe Double-screening wins from different games to fake the base Make-believe mastery — real players vanished from the space Long rants dressed as strategy, comment sections swallowed lies Overweening loudmouth doctored receipts just to demonize Cheap authority looks biggest when it cuts the frame to size Leeching clout from losses, self-deceiving till the server dies Never placed in any bracket, still performed for a crown Every thread became a ballot, every newbie voted down Fourteen years chasing renown, boots planted on borrowed ground Never earned a single crown — watched the whole community sink underground Friend list turned to headstones, usernames faded row by row Match requests stacked like tombstones, every lobby went no-show Too busy fronting, never felt the room go still Kings of nothing — empty sermons to a room they couldn’t fill [Chorus] Ghost-screaming in the lobby, every name receding gray Gatekept every stranger till nobody left to stay Now they stream a vacant kingdom while the server rots away Self-defeating kings built their own digital tomb today [Bridge] Threads thinning, inbreeding the clique till new blood stopped flowing Every seam unweaving, just occupied without sowing Friend list dimmed to black — I felt the whole floor crack Same curb in a flashback — different server, same heart attack I know the sound of exile when it doesn’t make a scene Names don’t vanish loud — they just stop being seen Crown so tight it cracked the floor beneath the throne They read the empty lobby wrong — crowned a room of tombstones [Outro] I ain’t the system’s victim, paid that decade’s price Not a ghost inside their mechanism — I saw the first sacrifice I’m the one still taking notes where they mistook graves for thrones At the tomb’s mouth now — I drew the blueprint over bones Throne-seekers streaming solo, reaping what they sowed alone Crown polished for a no-show, every jewel a borrowed stone Victory screen glowing — audience count: none They thought they built a kingdom — they just bricked themselves inside one They thought they were overseeing the scene… They were just overseeing the death
