[Intro] Riddle me quick—what’s loud with no lips, seen with no eyes? I spin syllables like coins in a laundromat sky. [Verse] I write in tight spirals, type-speed titans, timepiece violence, Mind meets mileage—fine-toothed science—rhymes like silent sirens. What am I? I’m the footnote you missed in a “best-case” brief, The “if” in the sentence, the drift in the sense of relief. I’m fractal with it—packed patterns—backhanded grammar gymnastics, Stacked cadences, black-belt in semantics, still scrappy, still famished. I split hairs, then stitch tears into switch-steered wordplay, Six gears, lip-seared, live-wire, no third way. [Pre-Chorus] Fast pace, clean face, mean bass—screen shakes, I’m not “deep,” I’m precise—big difference—see, wait. [Chorus] Cipher in a snowglobe—shake it, watch it settle, Truth looks pretty till you read the fine metal. If you can’t solve me, don’t label me “cold,” I’m just too many angles in one hand to hold. [Bridge] Riddle answer: “context.” (Say it slower.) “Cost.” (Say it louder.) I’m the gap between the chart and the people it devours. [Outro] Shake it again—same pieces, new storm— That’s intelligence: not a flex, it’s a form.
