[Intro] They call me The Verse Teller Started with a shoebox A cracked cassette. Rubber bands holding the dream shut And a room that never heard the rhythm I heard [Verse 1] Rubber bands on that cracked cassette kept my dream tight Vùng quê nghèo, no silver spoon, just hunger past midnight “Eyes forward, letters ain’t music” — that was their decree While I wrote secret bars in the back of Room 4B Space cadet, window-gazer, mind drifting past the chalk They drilled the Roman alphabet, I taught the letters to talk Closed doors handed back numbers too small — "be practical" I turned every "no" to a verse — that's how the Teller got tactical Seventeen rejections, seventeen rooms, same polished grin I studied every silence, mapped the power from within Borrowed suit, stiff handshake, accent judged before the pitch They priced me cheap — I learned their whole game, then flipped the switch They called my drive calamity — laughed at the audacity I kept the tape spinning, let the silence build tenacity From shoebox static to boardroom glass — they saw only mystery That's a kid from nowhere rewriting his own history [Pre-Chorus] Knocked on every door and they all stayed shut But the flame in my chest refused to sheathe They looked in my eyes, saw hunger but no strut Never saw the crown already forming underneath [Chorus] Họ cười và hỏi, "Ảo tưởng à?" Yeah, they called it fantasy Crown of thorns on my head, still I wear the majesty Now my reality is their fantasy They laughed when the room had no chair for me Their closed doors became the stairs to my apogee And every scar I wear is glory plain to see Now my reality is their fantasy [Verse 2] Monitor glow at 3 A.M. forged my mentality No family name, no connections — just work and vitality Fingers raw, still threading every cavity What they called travesty, I wove straight into tapestry Fourteenth floor, glass walls, city humming with electricity Rolex man leaned back, sold the same script with complicity “Standard rate, standard terms” — dressed in formality I flipped to the fine print, that’s where they hide the reality He thought the board was his — I let him run his lines Saw the price tag on his pitch before he'd read the signs I'd rehearsed that moment so long the real thing felt perfect Three months on the proposal, three minutes for the verdict From hung-up lines to CEOs calling my CEO From "we'll keep your file" to praise passed down below A tired hand on the laptop — that was my reality No marching band, no confetti, just quiet veracity [Bridge] They called it impossible, I logged the eventuality Rubber bands on the cassette trained pure tenacity Hands still bleeding but the needle moved with clarity Not every crown is gold — some are born from severity The kid they left unseen walked back in through the cavity They kept the word "fantasy"… I kept reality [Chorus] Họ cười và hỏi, "Ảo tưởng à?" Yeah, they called it fantasy Crown of thorns on my head, still I wear the majesty Now my reality is their fantasy They laughed when the room had no chair for me Their closed doors became the stairs to my apogee And every scar I wear is glory plain to see Now my reality is their fantasy [Outro — Spoken] To the boy with the busted tape — keep going. The rubber bands held. Room 4B was never the ceiling. It was the first wall you learned to sing through. The Verse Teller… out.
