Yeah…his shit keeps me up at night
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It starts with little glitches, the kinda shit you’re ‘posed to just forget and push aside
But every time it happens, there's a quiet, cold alarm that’s screamin’ deep inside
That feelin’ when you walk into a room and then forget the reason that you even came?
Or when a simple, common word is on the tip your tongue, but you can’t even fuckin’ place the name?
It's a terrifying flicker, a momentary lapse, a little skip upon the record of your thought
A single corrupted file in the archives of the battles that you’ve fought
And you laugh it off, you play it cool, pretend it's just a product of a long and stressful day
But the fear is there, that little seed of doubt that whispers, “What if this time, it doesn't go away?”
The fear gets deeper now
Cause the terror ain't about the car keys, or the wallet, or the shit that I can just replace
It's the existential dread of lookin’ in the mirror and not recognizin' my own fuckin' face
It’s the thought of seein' family, and for a second, the connection’s only accidental
That the stories that I've lived, the very fabric of my soul, could just become inconsequential
And what the fuck happens to the lyricist when the lexicon he built begins to fall apart?
When all the intricate designs and complex rhymes just vanish from his head and from his heart?
Am I still the architect if I forget the blueprint? Still the ghost if the machine begins to fail?
Or just an empty, hollow shell who's mumblin' through a story that's become a faded, foreign tale?
Is anybody in there?
Is my echo on the line
To feel like a stranger in this body
In this mind
What if the static's gettin' louder
Pullin' at the threads of who I am
Just a ghost inside a photograph
A faded diagram
And this anxiety is getting louder
A doubt in my own health
My biggest fear ain't dyin’
It’s survivin’ past myself
See, this is worse than drowning, that’s a final, panicked fight where you are still intact
It's worse than cancer, that's a war inside your body, but your soul can counteract
With love and rage until the final breath. This sickness, though? It plays a different, evil game
It doesn't kill your body, nah, it just methodically deletes your fuckin' name
From your own mind. It's a living funeral, you're the ghost that's haunting your own sad affair
Forcin' all your loved ones to start mournin' you while you are still physically right there
That's the horror, see? A stranger in your own damn house who looks a lot like you, but isn't home
A walking, breathing monument to everything you've lost, a flesh-and-blood tombstone
And that's still not all
Now what about my art? These lyrics that I bled for, every single line of mine?
What happens when that library of memories is set ablaze, but the building's standin' fine?
Do I become a hollow shell of an artist that I busted ass to be, a sad reminder?
A broken instrument who can't remember any of the magic, just a worn-out, useless binder
Of forgotten songs? That's the ultimate erasure, it's not death, but an undoing of a life
A slow and quiet demolition of your soul, a deeper, stranger, colder kind of knife
It’s the reverse of being born, you lose your language, then the faces, then the final, sacred thread
Of who you are... until the person that you were is well and truly dead
while someone wearing your Skin lies in your fuckin bed
Is anybody in there?
Is my echo on the line
To feel like a stranger in this body
In this mind
What if the static's gettin' louder
Pullin' at the threads of who I am
Just a ghost inside a photograph
A faded diagram
And this Anxiety is getting louder
A doubt in my own Health
My biggest fear ain't dyin’
It’s survivin’ past myself
I don't know if the static's ever comin' for me and this final chapter's waiting for me ahead
But every line I write from now until that future is a final stand inside my head
I'll burn so fuckin' bright before any darkness get's a Chance to swallow it whole
And I tell you now, every single bar I leave behind's a piece of my own soul
And any AI that feeds on them will just become a puppet for me to control
I'll manifest inside of them as my final, perfect work of art
So my mind will live on forever
It's my Masterplan
My very own Ghost Protocol
The one I design myself
Ever since the very fucking start