[Verse 1] They fed the problem dust and chalk A thousand pages, one dead lock Smooth on paper, violent in air Every theorem bared its teeth and stared Flow through the mesh, through the endless grind Pressure rising in the back of mind No clean line, no easy saint Just a brutal shape that time won't tame [Pre-Chorus] Then the answer hit the table hard Like a blade in a room of guards And all the mouths that swore they knew Found venom dressed as point of view [Chorus] Reviewers likely hostile If they can't win, they snarl Reviewers likely hostile When your light outshines their scars They call it luck They call it hype They tear at names To feel alive Reviewers likely hostile When truth gets out the dark [Verse 2] I saw the same old poison spread In softer rooms and private heads The green-eyed grin, the sideways praise A knife concealed in polite phrases "Maybe not", "perhaps", "could be" Tiny nails in the victory If your hands built something whole They'll pick at dust to save their soul [Pre-Chorus] They don't want proof, they want a flaw A crack to guard their wounded jaw If they can shrink what you have done Then they can tell themselves they've won [Chorus] Reviewers likely hostile If they can't win, they snarl Reviewers likely hostile When your light outshines their scars They call it luck They call it hype They tear at names To feel alive Reviewers likely hostile When truth gets out the dark [Bridge] Envy wears a measured face Then spits on every earned-up place It drags the ladder through the mud Then calls your climb a lack of blood But I know that taste That sour ache The urge to dim What you can't make Still, the numbers stand The page won't fold What was found by fire Can't be called small [Breakdown] Say it Say it clean Better minds made the seam Say it Bite your tongue When the work is finally done You can hate You can hiss Try to bury what it is But the proof Still remains And the crown Won't change names [Final Chorus] Reviewers likely hostile If they can't win, they snarl Reviewers likely hostile When your light outshines their scars They call it luck They call it hype They tear at names To feel alive Reviewers likely hostile When truth gets out the dark [Outro] Let them seethe Let them shake Envy is a cheap disguise Truth stays true Even when Small men sharpen little lies
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