aYo.
Let’s be real for a second.
We all read the comments on our feeds ... "If you don't put in the work, it ain't art."
"you're just pushing buttons."
Man... fuck that.
You don't know shit!
I’m sitting in the dark, staring at the plaster wall
Waiting for the energy to rise, but it has to fall
Back down.
I’m stuck in survival mode.
Every single day is just a complex code I’m trying to decipher
Feeling like a lifer in a prison made of "bills to pay."
I got a whole movie playing in my head, a 4K display
Of colors and shapes, stories that I wanna tell
But my hands are fucking heavy and I’m stuck inside this shell
Of exhaustion.
(Yeah, you know the vibe)
I try to pick up the pen, but the ink is dry
I try to learn the hard way, but the price is high
And the learning curve is steep, and my clock is ticking
And every second wasted is a bomb that’s clicking.
I’m jealous of the rich kids with the free time
Who can spend a whole week just to make a b-line
To a gallery.
Meanwhile, I’m sweating for a salary.
So the vision just sits there.
It rots.
It dies on the vine.
I got the taste in my mouth but I can't drink the wine.
It’s torture, man.
Having the eye of a god but the hands of a corpse.
Just stuck on the porch looking at a storm.
But then the tech dropped.
And people panicked.
They saw a monster.
I just saw a partner.
I saw a way to bypass the bullshit and get straight to the vein.
So I plug in.
And let me clear this shit up right now
For the critics thinking that I just hit a button and bow.
You think this shit is easy? You think it’s "magic wand"?
Nah, I’m sitting here in a rage, battling the command
Prompt.
Look at the screen...that looks like trash.
Rewrite the logic, waiting for the crash.
I’m running five hundred iterations, tweaking this seed
Trying to get the digits to match up with the need
Inside my brain.
It’s a different kind of pain.
It ain't physical labor, it’s mental curation
I’m shifting through the noise, looking for the foundation.
"give it texture. adding my thoughts. give it the best start."
"fix every issue where it all falls apart."
I’m arguing with logic, I’m wrestling the code
I’m carrying the vision while the GPU load
Spikes to a hundred.
I ain't stealing shit, I’m hunting for my gold
In a river full of mud, doing what I’m told
By the instinct.
(Keep going.)
Generation sixty.
(Getting closer.)
Generation eighty.
(mother*cker)
STOP.
There it is.
The exact image that was burning a hole in my head.
Bypassed the hands.
Bypassed the fatigue.
I didn't have to make it. I just had to find it.
The friction is zero.
It’s Me and the Machine,
caught in a violent translation
I’m screaming out a feeling at a binary station.
I gotta teach the logic how to bleed.
I gotta plant the chaos in every seed.
We wrestling for hours in the mud of this code
Until the cold hard syntax begins to erode
Into my feelings.
It ain't a button, it’s a fistfight until it get's what i mean.
*Knock Knock*
"Who dis?"
Just Me and the Machine.
Now let’s talk to the "haters."
Yeah, I see you on the timeline.
Crying about "soul." Crying about the "theft."
Acting like you worried there ain't gonna be nothing left
For the humans.
(Please)
You ain't worried about the "spirit."
You worried about money, I can fucking hear it
In your tone.
You spent your entire life just to hone
A skill that a laptop learned in a week.
And now you feel weak.
It makes you feel obsolete.
I get it. It sucks.
But don't come at me with that high-horse muck
About "purity."
You guys are the same ones who hated on Photoshop.
The same ones who said digital cameras would make the photo flop.
Fucking gatekeepers.
Hiding in your high castle cause you scared of the mob.
You mad cause a kid in the slums can do your job
Without the supplies.
Without the expensive gear and the studio size.
We leveled the playing field, we lowered the fence
And that’s why you screaming, that’s why you so tense.
To those who only relied on the technical to make you feel superior.
Now that everyone can realize their vision
You finally realized
Your ideas were always inferior!
It’s Me and the Machine,
Writing the new definition
I’m feeding every feeling to my brain's inner vision.
I gotta break the bone just to fix the limb.
I gotta drag the real outside of this dim.
You see danger, I see a mirror held by a chip
Capturing the film, developing the limp
Inside of my head.
It ain't complex, but it's a search for the truth of every scene.
*knock knock*
"Who dis?"
Just Me and the Machine.