

Prompt / Lyrics
[Verse 1] Woke up, throat scratch Tiny little cough, that’s that Typed it in the search bar fast Now it says I got three hours max Sweaty on the couch, I’m doomed Scrolling through the list, I’m zoomed Every single page, new tomb Why my phone feel like a waiting room? Mom calls, “You fine, just rest” I’m like, “Ma, this site say it’s my final test” Heartbeat racing, chest all tight Or is that the fifth coffee I had last night? [Chorus] WebMD got me trippin (trippin) Got me planning out my will in the kitchen (yeah) Every little sneeze, new condition Every little itch, new edition Got the doctor on speed dial ringin (ring ring) On hold, violin in my ceiling (skrrt) He pick up like, “What you feelin’?” I say, “Doc, I googled it… this the ending.” [Verse 2] Scrolling like a slot machine, bad news Headache? Could be this, could be that too Tiny red dot on my hand last Tuesday Now the search say I’m a medical Blu-ray Group chat muted, I’m “busy” Deep in a forum, makin’ myself dizzy “Rare in adults,” that’s me, I insist I’m convinced I’m the rarest on the list Call my doc back, third time today He like, “You again?” I’m like, “Yeah, hey” “I got screenshots, links, a thread, If you got a second, I might be dead.” [Chorus] WebMD got me trippin (trippin) Got me whispering my goodbyes in the kitchen (ayy) Every little sneeze, new condition Every little itch, new edition Got the doctor on speed dial ringin (ring ring) On hold, violin in my ceiling (woo) He sighs like, “Bro, what you reading?” I say, “Doc, the internet… it’s revealing.” [Bridge] [Beat drops to bass and soft violin] He say, “Come in, let’s check you out” I pull up like a walking doubt List in my hand, twenty-seven fears He look in my nose, then he wipes my tears “Take a breath, man, look at me, All that drama from your little sneeze You’re not cursed, you ain’t done It’s spring outside, that’s all it was” [Chorus] WebMD had me trippin (trippin) Turned a runny nose to a life decision (wow) Every little sneeze, new condition Every little itch, new edition Doc just laughs while I’m sittin He writes one word, starts grinnin (uh-huh) Hands me the paper like it’s deep wisdom: “Allergies, bro. Log off the algorithm.”
Tags
rap, Playful trap bounce with crisp drums and subby low-end, male vocals in a talk-rappy delivery. Pizzicato and legato violins trading call-and-response with the vocal; hook widens with stacked ad-libs and a simple sing-song top line. Beat starts sparse and gets busier with each verse, then drops back for a deadpan final punchline., male vocals, violin
2:25
No
3/27/2026