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Lyrics
**Therapist:**
Hey Mac, it’s been two weeks since our last session.
What’s going on today?
**Mac:**
Well I’ve been in a bind,
in my mind,
in the grind,
I find
it hard to push right through.
Grey n blue,
endless questions.
How’s it goin?
How are you?
The rain pours,
indoors,
in my head there’s a fog,
lungs full of smog.
It’s hard to sleep
when my dreams turn into nightmares,
hard to reach goals
when I know they’re right there.
Harder to love
when no one really cares.
Impossible to sleep
with all these night terrors.
**Therapist:**
Well Mac, have you tried meditating?
**Mac:**
I’ve tried drinks, n drugs,
kisses n hugs.
Silence is violence
and violence is loud.
I’m not proud —
of who I am.
I’m closed like a clam.
Let the door slam.
Lock me in.
Deep within my head,
emotionally I’m dead,
a zombie.
I’m dying every day,
every way,
I hate —
this life I’ve led.
Mental burnout fills me with tears.
Fears,
slam another bottle,
a couple beers.
But how do I make it work?
I don’t.
I’m stuck in the loop.
Like a card game
I’m ready to fold.
Truth be told,
I folded long ago.
There’s ghosts in my brain,
screams of pain
till I go insane.
**Therapist:**
Calm down Mac,
let’s talk about why you feel this way.
**Mac:**
Why?
Why I cry,
why I have a need to die?
Why waking up
makes me sigh.
I’ll tell you why,
I cry every day
because nothing gets better.
Put it at the top of the letter,
call it my header.
Why I wanna die?
I’ll tell you,
I belong in hell too.
I’ve broken too many promises,
tried to recover,
pay homages.
**Therapist:**
Let me stop you there Mac,
why do you think you belong in hell?
**Mac:**
I’m a psycho,
sckitso,
mental,
get the syringe
give me the fentanyl.
I’ve broken every rule in the book,
take a look
I got a list.
I’ve lied,
stolen,
cheated,
lied.
I’ve been broken,
a notion of dread
tugging at my mental.
I’ll grab a pencil.
Write it down.
Dance for laughs.
I’m a party clown.
But hey I’m alright,
airtight.
Locked up like a bulkhead.
Mentally dead,
fill my dome with lead.
Shit man I’m fucked.
Stuck in a rut.
Write this down.
Put it on paper,
give it a sharper bite.
Not looking to fight.
Just to find what is right.
Details
GeneratedAug 13, 2026
Duration1:57
LanguageEnglish
Style
Male vocals, depression, rap. Tired, conversation, fast rap
Credits
Prompt by
Grayscale253
Grayscale253ModelAria v5.5
