They say it’s their prerogative, but I don’t give a damn,

Opinions fall like rain; I’ll stay dry where I stand.

Sands of time grind stone, but I’m built from the ash,

Let their words wear thin; I’m moving too fast. (Too fast!)

Riding up escalators while the vultures plot beneath,

Their whispers crawl like snakes, but I won’t grit my teeth. (Nah!)

They offer cash advances for archives of my soul,

But I’m dodging their pursuits like a thief on patrol.

Backstreets and alleyways, removed from the shine,

Where the neon flickers dim, but the truth aligns. (You see it!)

Closed doors, open windows, a game of evade,

Too many close calls, yet I’m never afraid.

Long as one road keeps my spirit alive,

I’ll keep flipping the map, carving paths to survive.

They wanna write me off, but my script ain’t done,

This ain’t their story to tell; I’m the only one. (The only one!)

Fell a hundred times, but I rise with the storm,

Their chaos fuels me; I thrive when it’s warm.

When I thrive is warm brotha!

When I thrive is warm brotha!

-- but I don’t give a damn,

Opinions fall like rain; I’ll stay dry where I stand.

Sands of time grind stone, but I’m built from the ash,

Let their words wear thin; I’m moving too fast. (Too fast!)

Yo, me—why even stress?

Their words don’t matter; I couldn’t care less. (Let ‘em talk!)

"You’re only here ‘cause I let you," karma said with a grin,

But I’m rewriting fate with a pen dipped in sin.

Pulling strings in the shadows, orchestrating my moves,

While the vigil lights flicker, their facade disproves.

Iron-clad patience, but the weight’s wearing thin,

Feather boas on scarecrows trying to pretend. (What a joke!)

The separation in time slows the rage in my chest,

Each second expands when I’m put to the test.

One breath for control, one step for the fight,

Balancing my demons in the dead of night.

Victim or villain? It depends on the scene,

I play both roles, flipping faces in between. (Double down!)

Who’s steering this ship when the tide starts to roll?

The one who controls the storm is the one who owns the soul.

(Yo, me—why even stress?)

-- it’s their prerogative but I don’t give a damn,

Opinions fall like rain; I’ll stay dry where I stand.

Sands of time grind stone, but I’m built from the ash,

Let their words wear thin; I’m moving too fast. (Too fast!)

Yo, me—why even stress?

Their words don’t matter; I couldn’t care less. (Let ‘em talk!)

Hey,

I don’t care what they say—it’s their prerogative,

Let them spit their hate; I’ll still live.

No weight on my shoulders, no space for their lies,

I’ve got my truth, sharper than knives. (Sharper!)

(Yo, me—why even stress?)

Fast-forward through time, I’m a glitch in the stream,

Moving past their judgments like I’m stuck in a dream.

"Don’t Fear the Reaper" echoes loud in my head,

Even basslines carry wisdom from the nearly dead.

Mortality’s a puzzle, but I piece it with flair,

While their fragile fame crumbles, I’m still standing there. (Still here!)

Living solo’s a gamble, but I double my bets,

When regrets come knocking, I’m hard to impress.

Fame’s a burden; I’m free from the chains,

They chase the spotlight, I master the flames.

I rise like smoke, through the cracks I appear,

A phantom in the noise, untouchable here.

Their whispers surround me, but they fade in the end,

I’m unshaken, standing tall where their stories bend. (Unbothered!)

Yo, me—why do they try?

Their truth’s a lie; I’m too high to comply.

Hey,

I don’t care what they say—it’s their prerogative,

Let them spit their hate; I’ll still live.

No weight on my shoulders, no space for their lies,

I’ve got my truth, sharper than knives. (Sharper!)

(Yo, me—why even stress?)

(Yo, me—why even stress?)

Their truth’s a lie; I’m too high to comply.