Do you copy? Keep your eyes open Do not trust the file Watch the lights Whole damn scene got a twitch in the vision Everybody read smoke like scripture and listen One bad flare in the distance, instant religion Now the room full of cracked intuition I seen forum kings turn frantic and pious Building whole worldviews out static and bias Suit in the doorway hands out the papyrus Half-truth, fake proof, now everybody buy it Paul Bennewitz in the back of my brain Scanner on fire, trying to map out rain Every little hiss sound like a goddamn name Every dead channel start talking again Fuck that, look how the panic get franchised Photocopy fear till the myth go nationwide One man spirals and the rest all vampirize Drain every doubt till the lie feel sanctified Red light blink and they lean right in Bad tape spin and they all lock in No hard proof, just a rumor and skin Then the whole damn hive let the madness in Whole damn scene go Bennewitz Whole damn scene go Bennewitz Hear one whisper, then embellish it Whole damn scene go Bennewitz Whole damn scene go Bennewitz Turn dead air to a testament Whole damn scene go Bennewitz Whole damn scene go Bennewitz Everybody chasing ghosts in the estimate I got a mouth full of burnt-wire rhetoric Watching these message boards mutate the evidence Thread by thread, every maybe turn definite Then a fake-ass breadcrumb become heaven-sent Who fed who? That’s the sick little beauty Truth get bent by the badge and the groupies One forged memo make a whole crowd moody Now the myth got legs and the legs get spooky Look how the folklore breed in the fluorescent hum Base-side lights got believers speaking in tongues Nobody asking who the hell the story came from They just want one more file that can make them feel chosen And I’m in the middle like “hold up, focus” This ain’t revelation, this corrosion This what happens when the noise get loaded And a lonely mind get carefully molded Cold hands pass you a key to a locked-up nothing You call it disclosure, I call it corruption Y’all call it destiny, I call it production Big bright bait with the fear tucked under Whole damn scene go Bennewitz Whole damn scene go Bennewitz Hear one whisper, then embellish it Whole damn scene go Bennewitz Whole damn scene go Bennewitz Turn dead air to a testament Whole damn scene go Bennewitz Whole damn scene go Bennewitz Everybody chasing ghosts in the estimate Now it’s charts on the wall and the pins all frantic Red string logic, every dot romantic Everybody swear they the last authentic Till a planted little lie turn volcanic I’m talking culture-wide nervous collapse Men in the margins with government scraps Hell in the feedback, hooks in the gaps Whole communities built on a beautifully trapped Mindset, grindset, late-night decode Eyes bloodshot from the myth overload One more “insider,” one more download One more saint with a burn mark credo Goddamn, it’s a hall of mirrors with a payroll Bad actors knowing where the weak faith goes Feed them just enough and the whole thing self-grows Now nobody know where the real trail ends So I rap for the wreckage, the people misled For the ones who got cooked by the files they read For the truth getting buried beneath performance and dread And the cruelest shit? It still ain’t dead It just rebrands itself every few years instead Do you copy? No, you don’t You just want Something to haunt Whole damn scene go Bennewitz Whole damn scene go Bennewitz Hear one whisper, then embellish it Whole damn scene go Bennewitz Whole damn scene go Bennewitz Turn dead air to a testament Whole damn scene go Bennewitz Whole damn scene go Bennewitz Everybody chasing ghosts in the estimate Do not trust the file Watch the lights Dead air talking all night Whole damn scene go Bennewitz Run that back Static in the hangar Still intact
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