Washed Out

My heads a basement, doubt is heavy humidity. Whispers from dark corners as satan gives me orders shadows don't take notes,, forcing me to choke. higher odds its a static I can’t shake, I try to breathe, they build up a pain. washing my soul into a drain no one could witness the shadows i possess. things repeat the silence, I ran a mile, demons locked in my head. I found a new weapon, the thing i despise is the truth a sonic exorcism. heavy emotions hand, that’s the Devil's band. Every bass drop land is cracking their foundation, I turn anxiety into saturation. fight the shadows prepare for battle snap these mental shanks. This is a frequency, hear my salvation, my concrete castle where the war is fought clean, It’s me against them all, the ghosts of the unseen. They feed off the silence; they got very violent nothing on my mind I engineered the panic, they took the guilt, the shame, the fear— And chopped it on the SP, turned it into atmosphere. Now my vulnerability is looped confession in the chorus is impossible to defeat. the rhythm of my defiance. We’re building a sanctuary based on self-reliance. They still linger in the corners, But the volume on the track is too high for them to shout. running the whole show, background static that the mixer keeps low. you don't kill the darkness, flood the room with light, defeat the ghost, rapping through the night. My wounds don't vanish, i learned the rhythm, So when the beat drops, I know exactly The fight is exhausting But the record keeps spinning. I drop the needle... this time I'm winning. Go ahead and whisper. I raise the gain. My voice is the weapon. This is how I reclaim. Sound of a mic dropping, feelings down the drain.