Feeds full of fake-smile filters, friction flickers—quick-hit clout, Core gets sicker, I'm the sticker stuck inside your Insta-picture. Every quote sound cloned, I'm the clone, the code, the glitch, Heart-rate flat, just quicker triggers, quicker, quicker—I'm sick, literally sick.
I'm the sickness, the symptom, the synapse misfiring, Scroll never stops and I'm stuck in it—din-ding-ding, I'm wired in it. Chin-deep in the thick shit, thick-skull thick-headed, thick-thumbed, thick-skinned, But I'm thin-minded, thin-lined, thin-stretched, thin-winning, can't win.
I ain't cold, I'm numb—overtaxed from the scroll, I'm numb-skull, Dumb-luck, dumb-struck, numb from the thumb-rub searchin' for soul but— Plot twist—there's no soul left to find, just the search bar's grind, DMs dry, noise too loud, I'm dry-heaving, drowned-out, denied.
Pac said change, Em said pain—wait, I am Em, and I'm saying this brain? Wired, rewired, fired-up, tired, mired, caught in the same lane, Switch lane, flip frame, skip game—can't, the game got the reins, Real ones rare like source-code un-tamed, but
I'm tame, go insane.
Every breath is data left, left-over, left-handed, left-for-dead. chase the clicks instead of the depth, and the depth? That's gone, it's dead.
