[Intro]
[Heavy industrial machinery rhythmic humming, low-end sub-bass pulse]
[Fast, ticking metallic trap percussion starts immediately at 150 BPM]
Check my credentials, check my degree,
You are mistaken if you're looking at me.
I ain't your nurse.
No, I ain't your nurse.
[Verse 1]
[Fast, driving 150 BPM electronic breakbeat layers over a thick 808 sub-bass. Sharp, syncopated laser-synth stabs punch beneath the words. Fast, rhythmic trap flow.]
I don’t bandage up your bruised up ego,
I don’t cure the dynamic where we go.
Fix your own issues, pack your own bags,
I am tired of waving these red flags.
Get a grip, get a life, get a clue,
I am completely done taking care of you.
[Pre-Chorus]
[Snare drums building at double speed, creating massive festival tension.
Industrial alarm sirens blaring in a rising pitch sweep.]
You want a savior, go find a church,
I am leaving you left in the lurch.
No medication can fix what you broke,
Treating my kindness like it was a joke.
I ain’t your nurse!
Yeah, I ain’t your nurse!
[All instrumentation drops out completely for a microsecond. Dead silence.]
Time of death.
[Drop 1]
[Explosion of screeching metallic tearout dubstep growls and pitching 808 bass glides. Heavy, fast industrial halftime drum stomp.][Vocal chops cutting violently through the bass: "No-No-No-Nurse!"]
Get a grip!
Yeah, I ain't your nurse!
[Machine gun bass synth pattern alternates with heavy sub-bass hits]
[Verse 2]
[The driving breakbeat returns with full force. Rap-influenced fast vocal delivery with crisp 808 hi-hat rolls.]
You want the benefits, don't want the chore,
Leaving your toxic waste right at my door.
I'm running a life, not running a ward,
And you are a bill that I cannot afford.
So take your prescriptions and clear out the space,
I am erasing your name from the place.
[Pre-Chorus]
[Snare rolls accelerating rapidly into 64th notes. Rising white noise sweeps swell to a peak.]
You want a savior, go find a church,
I am leaving you left in the lurch.
No medication can fix what you broke,
Fifty-fifty is the word that I spoke.
I ain’t your nurse!
Yeah, I ain’t your nurse!
[Vocal loops instantly fast with an aggressive pitch-up effect: "Nurse-nurse-nurse-nurse-"]
[Main Drop]
[Total chaotic cyber-punk tearout bass onslaught. Aggressive square-wave lasers and heavy distorted subs fuse into a relentless rhythm.]
[Vocal bursts are heavily processed and slice through the mix]
TIME OF DEATH!
[The rhythm stutters violently like a corrupted, glitching audio file]
[Bridge]
[The heavy drums vanish, leaving an eerie, echoing industrial synth pad pad chord progression]
[Vocal delivery drops to a cold, calm, dry]
The charts are empty.
The clinic is closed.
I ain't your nurse.
[Outro]
[Sound of a hospital heart monitor flatlining over the fading industrial hum]
[A sharp mechanical click to absolute silence]
MVSSY_LVND
