[Intro - Sleek Electronic Pulse, Ticking Clock Sound & Sharp Click of High Heels] [Cool, composed, professional voice] Coffee poured. Reports filed. Credit stolen... and now, it's time to balance the books. [Verse 1] Smiling at the desk while you take the lead, Dismissing every tactic that you couldn't read. "Just a pretty face," is what the board decrees— Handing out the coffee on my bended knees. You thought I was property, a piece of the wall, While I drafted up the strategies that watched you fall. Downloading the ledgers, clearing out the vault, Leaving you to choke on your institutional fault. [Pre-Chorus] [The bassline tightens, a sharp rhythmic synth snapping in] Jacket on my shoulders and a knife in my hand, Time to rewrite everything you planned. Physics do the math, angles find the mark— Watch how a assistant takes apart the dark. [Chorus - Punchy Alt-Rock Drop & Sleek Electronic Beats] [Sharp, confident, swaggering vocals] BLINDSPOT! Hitting from the angle you can't see! You built a boys' club on a cracked-glass-see-through-sea! Kinetic aim curving right around your pride— There's nowhere left for fragile heroes here to hide! Fishnets and combat boots, a lethal, sharp design, You wanted a prop? Now you're crossing my line! Throwing the blade on a calculated arc— Leaving your whole corporate empire in the dark! [Verse 2] No more microaggressions or a stolen name, I rewrote the rules of your rigged-up game. You never looked twice at the assistant's desk, Too busy acting arrogant and picturesque. Now my spatial tracking locks you in the sights, Bending every trajectory through neon lights. A flick of the wrist and the target is met— The one executive you'll always regret. [Bridge - Stripped Back, Sleek Sequencer & Low Whispers] [Calm, calculating, echoing cadence] Calculate the distance... Account for the wind... [A metallic clink of a blade spinning] ...And strike. [Final Chorus - Maximum Intensity, Driving Guitars & Punchy Electronic Rhythm] BLINDSPOT! Hitting from the angle you can't see! You built a boys' club on a cracked-glass-see-through-sea! Kinetic aim curving right around your pride— There's nowhere left for fragile heroes here to hide! Fishnets and combat boots, a lethal, sharp design, You wanted a prop? Now you're crossing my line! Throwing the blade on a calculated arc— Leaving your whole corporate empire in the dark! [Outro - Sleek Synth Beat Fading Out with a Sharp Metallic Snap] [Cool, deadpan whisper] Account closed. [Final sharp synth cutoff]
