Beast mode, beast mode,

Beast mode, beast mode, I don't see a lane, I make roads, Deep code, decode, Every bar got another payload. Beast mode, beast mode, Pressure make the whole frame explode, Pen cold, brain gold, I turn every blank page into payroll. [Verse 2] I'm back with a backpack full of black magic and bad habits, Rapid-fire rabbit punches to the beat—can't catch it, Every pattern gets shattered, then I gather up the fragments, Reassemble ’em backwards just to prove that I can hack it. I'm a paradox wrapped in a pair of paragraphs, Half of y'all talk trash, half the trash talks back, I put a comma in the drama, then a period on that, Now the sentence has a sentence—read between every bracket. Mind racing like a freight train flying through a hurricane, Brain making eight lanes out of one little avenue, Every avenue I travel turns to avenue of avenues, I'm so far ahead the rearview doesn't know what it is looking through. No ceiling, just scenery I haven't destroyed yet, No weakness, just a piece of me I haven't deployed yet, They want smoke? I want growth—I don't need the whole set, I put fire in the furnace, then I forge my own silhouette. [Flow Switch] Okay— Tick-tick, syllabic arithmetic, Ridiculous with the rhythm, I'm splitting it into increments, Intricate little riddles embedded in every sentence, If intelligence is currency, I'm overdrafting the intellect. Quick with it, wicked with it, Switch the tempo, pivot with it, Hit the pocket, rip the fabric, Leave the beat diminished in it. [Final Verse] I'm not here to be famous, I'm here to be undeniable, Every line is a live wire, every rhyme is combustible, If the beat is a mountain, I'm climbing it in dress shoes, Then carrying the summit back down just to prove what I can do. I turn doubt into data, turn mistakes into metrics, Turn rage into pages, turn pages to records, Turn records to evidence, evidence to leverage, Then leverage the leverage till the whole game remembers. I'm a beast with a pen and a brain with a vendetta, Not against any person—against anything that says “better,” I'm competing with the version of myself from yesterday, So tomorrow better brace itself—I'm coming for the record. [Outro] No gimmicks. No borrowed blueprint. Just bary