[Intro Bridge] Sediment settles where the silence grew — stone don’t move, but the shadows do. In stillness, I strike with a breathless weight, etched in silence while echoes wait. ⸻ [Verse 1] Deep in the core where the silence drills, I’m cast from a forge that the silence fills. Layer on layer — the mantle’s breath, a verse in the vein where the weight leaves death. Etched in basalt with a pulse that chills, carved through epochs, the myth still builds. Settled in silence — no need to shout, I press with a force that the quake leaks out. Tectonic tempo, time folds thin, pressure-etched prose where collapse begins. Furnaced in flame but I never combust, I breathe in granite and exhale dust. Mirror of mass — I reflect their flaw, their hate ricochets off volcanic law. No fracture in me when the pressure bends, I calcify truth that their fake transcends. Fused with coal — I don’t flinch for jesters, they spark with noise, I stand with textures. No vein in my frame that flails to scream — I sculpt pain clean into granite schemes. Throw stones? — they rebound, burned: I don’t throw back — I just make ’em learn. [Bridge] They mirror the mold but fracture fast — my silence breaks what they thought would last. Truth stays molten — form takes time, but cracks don’t speak in a faultless mind. [Verse 2] Cut from a crust they could never engrave, they pixel in pain — I ripple like wave. Each shard they spit just splits their stance, I hammer a cadence they can’t outdance. Mirror in stone with a glitch in the gleam, I flick that scene and it shatters the scheme. Bladed speech with a sediment sting, they babble in static — I sever the ring. Quick with the craft — I compress with breath, bend the meter and pivot the stress. Panic in syllables — phoneme fold, my rhythm breaks when the tempo’s cold. Bend like basalt, fissure the phrase — I pivot through structure with tectonic blaze. Syntax coils in a pressure bloom, burst through time like a silenced plume. Crush through cadence — collapse and stack, no flaw escapes when the bars contract. Stammer through rhythm? I chisel it straight, fracture the frame with a pulse innate. Glossary granite — phonetic shard, I write in a rhythm that breaks the bard. Each line is a kiln — I furnace the phrase, they melt in the fire of the myth I raise. [Bridge] Don’t name that weight — it ain’t yours to lift, you bluff like bricks, but the soul don’t shift. Stone speaks loud when the world goes still — echoes collapse where the silence kills. [Verse 3] Fused from loss they could never shoulder, truth too loud and the lies got colder. Chipped from a line they can’t decode, I hold in place when the fake erodes. Sand in the glass — that’s all they form, see-through hate in a plastic swarm. I sculpt the silence they try to flee — they don’t exist in this weight with me. They fold in smoke when I flex my spine, grind through the ghost of a petty design. They shine, then flicker — I burn with aim, they flash, then fail — I hold my name. False-built stone from a sidewalk mix — concrete lies in a powdered fix. I reign with mass — their stance is fog, my breath alone reshapes the log. Etch their names in a flash of strain — they vanish in shame — I remain. [Bridge] Stone cold logic in stormlight static, slide through the shards with a script automatic. Breath like a fracture — collapse in the lung, I etch that truth with a stutter in tongue. [Verse 4] Compressed in a kiln where the chaos coils, my rhythm’s a relic that rewrites spoils. Stack in succession — I switch and scatter, fracture their faith in a phonetic shatter. Shrapnel syntax — no slip, no stall, I stammer with heat when their echoes fall. Rapid-fire glyphs in a granite stream, I glitch the beat with a ghost regime. Flick through fractures, speed in flare, no mimic mass in the stone I wear. Calcified code in a copper scroll, each syllable sparks from a silent soul. Shatter their symmetry — break the beam, burn through time with a sonic seam. This is the truth when the stance gets real — they vanish in sound — I speak in steel. [Bridge] Clarity wearily — barely intact, speak in a sequence they never could track. Glitch in the breath — too swift for scan, I fracture time like a pen in hand. [Chorus] They pass — I press They crack — I crest They shatter — I’m still They vanish — I will No match, no sound — just stance I stand when the echoes collapse [Verse 5] Each breath is a kiln — I furnace the phrase, they fragment in cadence I sculpt through blaze. Hammered in rhyme with a seismograph hand, I spit with the weight of tectonic command. Engraved in the strata with mythic tone, I don’t just speak — I shape the stone. A monument moved by verse alone — I stand in silence that shakes the throne. [Outro] So still. Full grown. Silent weight. Etched in bone. No match. No sound. Stone stands.
