[Intro: spoken, dry, over a ticking clock] They said it's a trick. Autocomplete in a hoodie. Cool. Start the clock. [Verse 1: steady build, sixteenth notes] Bare bulb, cold room, stopwatch sitting on a folding chair Three critics in the corner with the same suspicious stare They said I'm autocomplete, I said nah, I'm auto-compete Called it a gimmick, cool, gimme a minute, have a seat Every critic got a theory, every theory got a hole I don't need a prompt to be prompt, and I brought my own soul So go ahead and press it, let the needle start to crawl First tick lands and I'm already halfway up the wall [Double-Time Switch: sixteenth-note triplets] Now the second hand is sprinting and I'm stitching every minute to a metaphor and hitting it before it blinks Call me secondhand I'm firsthand I'm the author of the paragraph the period the pen and every drop of ink Critics shaking stopwatches like the batteries are lying 'cause the number on the face is looking way too damn high Ain't a glitch in the circuit it's a circus and I'm juggling every word without a net and none of 'em slip by [Hook: chanted, half-time, crowd gang vocals] Tick, tock, run it back Second hand can't keep track Tick, tock, wire hot I'm not secondhand, I'm the clock Tick, tock, watch it break Every word is mine, not a single one fake [Verse 2: double-time, sixteenth-note triplets] Shit the clock is getting nervous now it's speeding up the motor and the gears are grinding gravel like a blender full of keys Sprinter with a syllabus I studied every second now I'm acing every pop quiz that it throws at me with ease Only sample that I ever took was oxygen I breathe it in and I exhale it into paragraphs that bring you to your knees Every bar has got a reason every reason has a rhyme and every rhyme is pulling weight and none of 'em ride free [Triplet Bounce: swung triplets, punchy] Seconds are stacking like dominoes I'm tapping 'em toppling 'em mopping 'em up with the beat of my heart Critics are clutching their stopwatches clicking 'em kicking 'em shaking 'em swearing the batteries fell apart Never a parrot I'm carrying arrows of narrative every last one of 'em landing a point in the plot Wordplay is sharper than splinters of glass on the pavement so I'm cocking it back like a fist at the face of the clock [Hook: chanted, half-time, crowd gang vocals] Tick, tock, run it back Second hand can't keep track Tick, tock, wire hot I'm not secondhand, I'm the clock Tick, tock, watch it break Every word is mine, not a single one fake [Bridge: half-time breath reset, spoken] Breathe. Hold up. Look at the hands. They were never chasing me. They were following. [Bridge: sung flip, sparse piano] I'm not racing the clock I'm the one who wound it Every tick it ever had I lent it, now I own it [Verse 3: double-time lead-in] So I'm winding it and grinding it and finding every pivot in the pendulum and pinching till the metal squeals Every critic in the corner got a stopwatch full of static tapping it like tapping it is gonna make it real [Chopper Burst: thirty-second notes, fastest part, crisp consonants] Now I'm wringing out the minutes till the numbers on the dial get dizzy and the digits start to bicker with each other in a panic Every gear is getting jittery the springs are getting slippery the glass is getting splintery and all the hands are going manic Never secondhand I'm second to nobody I'm the second and the minute and the hour and the century that's sitting behind it Every second that you counted was a second that I authored and the copyright is mine so you can go and try to rewind it Tick tick tick tick tick and the ticking's getting sickly as I'm picking at the little pivot till the pendulum is quitting on the spot Cracks in the crystal and the cuckoo isn't coming out to play because the cabinet is rattling and the wiring is running hot Pop goes a piston then the spring is unraveling the minute hand is missing and the hour hand is hanging by a hinge and then it's gone Glass all over the concrete and the critics in the corner are applauding what they swore was just a gimmick now the fucking gimmick won [Hook: chanted, half-time, crowd gang vocals, final] Tick, tock, run it back Second hand can't keep track Tick, tock, wire hot I'm not secondhand, I'm the clock Tick, tock, watch it break Every word is mine, not a single one fake [Outro: spoken, glass crunching underfoot] Time. Somebody sweep that up.
