Dead Wrong About Me

[Verse 1]
You ain't seen the nights I bled for this
You just see the shine and captions, miss
Talkin' like you built my skeleton
Tryna write my life with a borrowed pen
You want quiet, I was born too loud
You want humble, I don't shrink my crown
You want box-sized thoughts, four walls, one door
I burned that house, walked out the floor
[Chorus]
It's a privilege to know yourself
You can't buy that on a shelf
You can talk, but you dead wrong 'bout me (dead wrong)
You can point, you can lie, you can speak your piece
But you dead, dead wrong 'bout me (so wrong)
I did the work in the dark, you just see the scene
You can't tell me who to be
'Cause you dead, dead wrong 'bout me
[Verse 2]
Every label that you stick don't fit
You don't know the things I won't admit
Therapy and prayers in my call log
Steady tryna outrun my own fog
I faced me, that was hard as hell
You just skim, I done read myself
So keep your script, I got my own lines
My reflection don't need your cosign
[Chorus]
It's a privilege to know yourself
You can't buy that on a shelf
You can talk, but you dead wrong 'bout me (dead wrong)
You can point, you can lie, you can speak your piece
But you dead, dead wrong 'bout me (so wrong)
I did the work in the dark, you just see the scene
You can't tell me who to be
'Cause you dead, dead wrong 'bout me (yeah)

rap, Minimalist boom-bap with thick kick and crisp snare, deep sub bass, and moody piano loop; female vocals with confident, laid-back swing that tightens into double-time bursts on key punches. Hook stacks harmonies and call-and-response ad-libs for an anthemic feel. Verses stay mostly dry and upfront; last chorus adds subtle choir pads and extra ad-libs for a lift in the final run., hip hop