Voice 1 (Optimistic about the Trade) No keys, no kingdom, no clicks, no crown. Give a little data up, watch me double down. Feed me clout, feed me fame, feed me views on demand. Build a brand, flip a bag, and they all understand. Bro, don't you see? It's a symphony of reach, Give 'em little crumbs, they give us grand preach. Access to the masses, ain't that the goal? Your IP's just paper — they turn it to gold. They plow through our clicks like crops in a yield, But I'm tryna make bread, so a little gets peeled? Data's just a token, man, it's all give-and-take. If don't cash in, I'm missin' all the cake! Voice 2 (Skeptical about the Trade) Another grind, another dime. Another grab – my data, their crime. Listen, fool, don't you see the design? You're not the player here, you’re the product online. Every “like” is a leash, every share is a snare, They don't want your music — they want all your air. Look close, bro, it’s a devil's fine print, A lifetime of tracking for a second to glint. IP for IP — your "Intellectual Property" Traded for "Infinite Profiling," you see? Every click builds a cage, call it free range, They'll sell back your soul in a Big Data exchange. You’re a cash crop, homie, a walking QR, Don’t mistake every stage light for a star. Chorus (Clash of voices in your head) "Should I share or should I run?" (Run, run, run) "Trade crumbs for a crown — or be left with none?" (None, none, none) They dangle the fame, but they tighten the chains, Hooked on the high, can't unsee the aim. "Should I fight or should I fold?" (Fold, fold, fold) "Build an empire? Be bought and sold?" (Sold, sold, sold) A song for the crowd, or a song for myself? Data mills don't sleep. Fund that AdTech creep.
