[Intro] [camera shutters] [brass stab] (HEY!) (yuh!) [Verse 1] Flashbulbs blister like a thousand suns, Every breath I take is another loaded gun. Coffee on the concrete, headline sprint, Bokeh on my name while the facts get bent. I can’t whisper once without a chorus roar, Every lock I set finds a hole in the floor. Privacy’s a poltergeist posting my stress, I’m breathing and bleeding on the front-page press. Click-click cataract, focus blown, Oxygen auction on a borrowed phone. Spin-cycle cycle, rinse that mess, Flip the narrative, flip me—press to press. My pulse in a pull-quote, cropped for effect, My truth in a toothpick, staged to dissect. I walk out smiling with a panic in my chest— A billboard blush in a bulletproof vest. (HA!) [Chorus] Bad press, good press, same stress—same chess, Every scar I hide gets sold with my address. Highs hit the ceiling, lows in my chest, I can’t live, I can’t breathe without bad press. Bad press, good press, wave, pose, bless—(press!) Name in the caption, life under duress. Highs hit the ceiling, lows in my chest, I can’t live, I can’t breathe without bad press. [Verse 2] Every stumble’s a circus, every word’s a crime, A microscope minute stretched over time. Shadow on my jawline? Breaking news, Angle on my off-day? Shape it, use. Hero when I’m quiet, villain when I jest, Either way I’m bait for the comment nest. Gossip’s a gavel with a strobe-light spin, Turn me to a thumbnail, sell me as a win. I sign for silence but the quiet costs more, Embargo on my heart meets a leaky door. Zoom on a rumor, crop out the rest— I’m a headline hound with a sleepless press. Flash for the fashion, smash for the clicks, Numbers do the talking while the story does tricks. I toast to tomorrow with a camera-kissed breath, I’m the live-stream life you can’t pause to death. (HEY!) [Chorus] Bad press, good press, same stress—same chess, Every scar I hide gets sold with my address. Highs hit the ceiling, lows in my chest, I can’t live, I can’t breathe without bad press. Bad press, good press, wave, pose, bless—(press!) Name in the caption, life under duress. Highs hit the ceiling, lows in my chest, I can’t live, I can’t breathe without bad press. [Bridge] Every secret I keep is a product to list, Every plea for peace gets filed and dismissed. No corner, no cover, no quiet recess, When the paper’s your coffin and the ink is the ‘yes.’ I bargain with the bylines, beg for less— But the echo sells better when I confess. I’m a newsstand heartbeat, over-processed, A carousel spin with a spotlight stress. [Final Chorus / Outro] Bad press, good press, same stress—no rest, (HEY!) Every scar I hide gets sold with my address. Highs hit the ceiling, lows in my chest, I can’t live, I can’t breathe without bad press. Bad press, good press, frame me—say less, (press!) Brand me a saga, package my mess. Highs hit the ceiling, lows in my chest, I can’t live, I can’t breathe without bad press. [Instrumental Outro] [horns punch] [camera shutters rattle] [ride cymbal fades]
