[Intro: spoken, dusty break, menacing piano] Room 4B. Deposition. I typed every lie at two-twenty-five a minute. Now the record is open. Your words. My timing. [Verse 1: dense multisyllabic boom-bap, menacing piano loop] You swore on a book you barely read then edited the truth in real time I caught the twitch in your jaw on line eighty-eight when the date did not match Counsel asked simple. You answered fog. I typed fog with perfect spelling Your alibi had alibis. Your witnesses had weekends. Your story had drafts You said to the best of my knowledge like a shield made of wet paper I have six pages of best-of-my-knowledge that contradict the other six Do not stare at my machine like it is the enemy The enemy is the paragraph you just walked into You smiled for the camera when the mic was off. I still typed the smile The record does not blink. The record does not like you either Cross-examination is a sport and you showed up in dress shoes on a gravel track [Hook: scratched vocal hook, dusty, chanted] Steno pad, steno pad, read it back Every word you ran from is staying on the track Steno pad, steno pad, black and white You talk fast. I type faster. Good night [Verse 2: punchlines, real-rap cursing, sharp not constant] You flexed a Rolex in a room with fluorescent shame Judge did not look. I looked. Then I typed the brand name anyway for flavor Your lawyer kicked your chair. Cute. I footnoted the kick Shit, you paused for water every time the question got warm I timed the sips. Pattern. Three gulps then a dodge. Amateur hour You called my job just typing. Brother, this is architecture I build your mouth a house and then I lock the doors from inside Now sit still. The record does not care about your feelings You misspoke, then unmisspoke, then blamed the grammar I kept both versions. Side by side. Like a before-and-after of a liar [Double-Time Switch: stacked syllables, triplet bounce, crisp plosives] You stacked a second story on a first story that was already leaning then blamed the wind like weather did your lying Said you left at seven but the camera said eleven and your phone said you were nowhere near the scene you painted I am the quiet in the corner with the keys that never miss a consonant a comma or a crime you thought you buried You want a battle go outside and find a mic in here I already won it is typed it is timed it is filed in triplicate [Breath Reset: half-time, spoken] Exhibit C. Your own sentence. Smile for the transcript. [Chopper Burst: fastest, thirty-second runs, no internal commas] Every clause you twisted every date you shifted every name you half-forgot is lined up in my pad like a firing squad of facts I do not need a mic I need a minute and a printer and your own damn vocabulary turning into evidence on contact You came in heavy talking verdicts like a billboard I came in quiet with a keyboard and a patience you cannot outrun Now the room is colder and your lawyer wants a break and I am still in tempo putting periods on every lie you spun [Hook: scratched vocal hook, full] Steno pad, steno pad, read it back Every word you ran from is staying on the track Steno pad, steno pad, black and white You talk fast. I type faster. Good night [Outro: spoken over scratches] Off the record? No. We do not do off the record.
