[Intro: clipboard click, tape measure zip] Inspection Let's see [Hook: female MC, solo, brass stab on every "red tag"] Red tag on your argument, condemned, get out Foundation was a feelin' and the roof was all mouth Tapped it with a hammer, heard the hollow in the wall Ain't a damn thing load-bearin', baby, watch it fall [Verse 1: female MC, dry and unbothered] Twenty years with a flashlight and a moisture meter I can tap a wall and tell you if the man who built it was a cheater You called me out to look at your "that ain't real music" manor Built it in a weekend with a grudge and a borrowed hammer Front porch saggin' from the weight of every take Doorbell plays the same complaint since nineteen ninety-eight Smoke alarm been chirpin' in the hallway for a decade You keep callin' it "the classics." That's a battery that's decayed [Flow switch: triplet flow] Mold in the attic, it's old and dramatic, it's cold and emphatic, the classics on hold Wire in the panel all tangled and mangled, every angle you strangled's a rant that you told Gutters are clogged with every sound you swore would never last Ten years later, there you go, repackagin' it as "the past" [Hook: female MC] Red tag on your argument, condemned, get out Foundation was a feelin' and the roof was all mouth Tapped it with a hammer, heard the hollow in the wall Ain't a damn thing load-bearin', baby, watch it fall [Verse 2: female MC, low, in the crawlspace] Here's the part they never print up in the listin' Every house got a crawlspace and a little somethin' missin' Got my knees in the dirt and my light on the beam Found a box with your name in black marker on the seam Dusty little demo from the year you turned nineteen Seven songs and a photo, you was holdin' a tambourine Nobody signed it, nobody played it, nobody came Not your mama, not your roommate, not a single fuckin' name [Flow switch: stop-start, she answers herself] Permit? None. License? Lapsed. Experience? A tambourine and a nap And you the one decidin' who gets to be on the map? You ain't a purist, you a builder whose house never stood So you walk around red-taggin' the whole neighborhood [Break: one kick, spoken report] Item one. Foundation. Poured on "back in my day." Never set Item two. Load-bearin' wall. It's a feelin'. Feelings don't carry weight Item three. Wirin'. Forty paragraphs on one outlet. Fire hazard Item four. Crawlspace. One demo. Unsigned. Tambourine Recommendation? Tear it down [Beat Switch: stomping brass band strut, drums swagger] [Verse 3: female MC, strutting] "Real" was never in the blueprint, "mine" was in the deed You didn't build a standard, just a fence around a need Every porch got a speaker and a different kind of loud Every stranger got a key and every key brought a crowd Yours the one with the curtains and the porch light off at night Sittin' in the dark with your own little clipboard, writin' tickets out of spite [Final Hook: female MC, brass band full] Red tag on your argument, clearance, everything goes Every hot take half off, and they still ain't sold Tapped it with a hammer, heard the hollow in the wall Ain't a damn thing load-bearin', baby, watch it fall [Outro: spoken] That's four-fifty for the inspection Cash I don't take opinions
