Intro (spoken, low) Room’s quiet… but my head’s already arguing. No witnesses this time — just me and the truth. Verse 1 I wake up with a case against myself, cross-examine every move for help. Every choice I made feels suspicious now, like I gotta explain how I got here somehow. I don’t trust my instincts, I double back, second-guess good moments till they crack. Even peace feels like a setup scene, waiting for the part where it turns on me. I carry blame like it proves I care, wear it heavy like it keeps me aware. If I stay hard on myself, maybe I won’t fall — that’s the lie I keep telling when I build these walls. I replay words I should’ve never said, then punish myself like it fixes it. I know better, but I don’t feel free — knowing the truth don’t rescue me. I look strong when I’m standing still, but inside I’m negotiating my will. Trying to figure out if I’m broken or just tired — either way, I’m running out of fire. Hook No alibi when it’s me vs. me, no excuses left, no referee. I say “I’m fine,” but it don’t convince — I hear the doubt in my own defense. If I fall back, it’s my own design, I build the trap, then cross the line. No alibi, no one to blame — just me in the mirror saying my name. Verse 2 I don’t need enemies, I internalize, turn every flaw into a lifetime trial. I overthink until the good feels fake, then wonder why my chest still aches. People say “relax,” like it’s a switch, like I haven’t tried everything that exists. They don’t know the noise I’m under oath to hear, every thought sworn in as sincere. I hold myself to impossible terms, call it growth while I burn and burn. If I’m not perfect, I feel behind — like my worth’s on a countdown timer. I want peace, but I interrogate calm, asking “how long till this goes wrong?” I don’t celebrate, I brace for impact, even good news gets treated like a trap. Still, I show up when I wanna fold, not ‘cause I’m brave — I just don’t know how to let go of the pressure I keep, like guilt’s the only thing anchoring me. Bridge (quiet, honest) If I go quiet, I’m not hiding out — I’m just tired of hearing myself shout. No verdict yet, no closure scene — just sitting with who I’ve been. Final Hook No alibi when it’s me vs. me, no backup plan, no jury. I say “I’m good,” but it’s hard to say when I question myself this way. Maybe one day I’ll ease my grip, stop treating myself like a counterfeit. Till then I stand, no disguise — no alibi… just trying to survive. Outro (spoken, steady) Same mind… same voice… but I stayed tonight. That’s not victory — but it’s real

No Alibi