[Intro] (Yeah) Shh, listen Ghosts in the walls when the beat starts missin' (What?) [Verse 1] I hear ghosts in the hall where the floorboards creak, Every thought that I fought gonna talk, they speak, Every flaw that I saw in the dark I leak, Put a bar to the scars till the hearts all weak. I was raised where the rage in a cage got fed, Where the pain in the brain never stayed just said, Where the shame in my veins turned the page blood red, Now the ink that I drink is the way I bled. I don’t sleep, just replay scenes, deep cut cinema, Each frame in my brain like a cheap drug enema, Keep runnin’ from the mirror but the creep stuck in at ya, He be grinnin’ in the glass like, "Peep your dilemma, bruh." I got doubts that shout when the crowd go quiet, Whole mind like a house, every sound might riot, Tryna drown all the noise but it pounds my diet, Turn fear into fuel when I ground and write it. [Verse 2] You ain’t built for the guilt that I quilt in a rhyme, I’ve been stitching every glitch, every tilt in my mind, Spill filth till the milk of the silk gets grime, Then I filter the silt, make a guilt-trip chime. I been talkin’ to the ghosts in the room with a pen, They been offered every coffin in the tomb of my head, They just hover over covers when I pull ‘em in bed, Whisper numbers of the summers that I foolishly bled. I’m a runaway train in a brain pan sizzling, Words like blades when I spray, fans listening, Hand full of pain that I play, transfiguring, Turn a landmine page to a grand plan glistening. I don’t brag on a bag or a chain-round flex, I just drag every drag of the shame-bound hex, Put the past in a cast with a flame-bound text, If you ask where I’m at, I’m the same, complex. [Verse 3] Every letter that I sever from the tether is a weapon, I’ve been better under pressure, under weather, under lesson, I don’t measure any pleasure, I just treasure the aggression, Put the pain up on the ledger, then I shred it in a session. I am not your pretty Pinterest quote, I’m the ink in the sink when the wrists get choked, I’m the glitch in the script when the system broke, Turn a myth to a list of the risks I spoke. I been locked in a box with a fox and a vulture, Every thought that I jot like a shock to the culture, Every clock that I stop with a bar I sculpt ya, Got a plot that I crop from the scars that molt ya. You can feel that chill when the verse get colder, Whole stage tilt, weight of the words on shoulders, Every ghost in my throat when I burst gets bolder, I reverse every curse till the hurt turns soldier. [Verse 4] Look, I don’t wanna be the kid with the "almost" story, Where the pen hit the page but it stalled on glory, Where the friends took the stage, left me small, that’s gory, So I bend every cage till it all looks for me. I been runnin’ through the walls of the doubt I built, Every brick that I laid had a shade of guilt, When the rain came down, all the paint got spilt, Now the stain on the ground is the way I tilt. I don’t chase any like, any share, any mention, I’ve been face to face with despair and attention, Every prayer in the air had a tear in the tension, Now I lace every snare with a rare intervention. If the ghosts wanna float in the back of my mind, Let ‘em note what I wrote when I crafted a line, Let ‘em quote every hope that I packed in the grind, They can haunt all they want, I’ma trap ‘em in rhyme. [Verse 5] Yeah, I dissect doubt like a med school lecture, Every syllable I kill is a stress test pressure, Every minimal regret that I kept gets measured, Every criminal event in my head gets severed. I don’t mumble, I rumble with a lung full of shrapnel, Turn a stumble to a rumble when I run through the gravel, Every jungle in my skull where the troubles unravel, I just bundle every struggle, make a drumline battle. I been tossed in the ring with the fear, went rounds, I’ve been lost in the sting of the sneer, ten sounds, But I bossed every swing till the mere frown drowns, Now I cross every thing that could tear man down. You can’t chart this pain with a pop-hook jingle, Can’t box this brain in a soft book single, Every bar that I carve like a locked tooth, wrinkle, I’m the harsh truth, carved in a dark booth, sinful. [Verse 6] I spill ink like a crime scene chalk outline, Every rhyme clean outlines dark doubt time, Every line been a lifeline, sharp gout spine, Tryna cut through the fog where the harsh doubts climb. I was sittin’ in a room with the blinds all shut, With a mind full of wounds that the time won’t cut, With a spine that assumed it was fine, all bluff, Till the rhymes pulled the truth from behind, raw stuff. I don’t cap in a verse, I don’t act for the clout, I react to the hurt, I extract what I doubt, Turn a crack in the earth to a map, then I route, Every track that I birth is an act of a bout. If the ghosts in my past wanna dance in the light, Let ‘em prance in the ash when I’m brandin’ the mic, Every chance that I crash, I demand that I write, ‘Cause the man
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