[Intro – Glitching radio static, low growl]
> They didn’t just make a mistake…
They made me.
---
[Verse 1 – Steady, eerie intro flow]
Woke in a bag—no tag, no breath,
Now I move like death in a city of death.
Didn’t ask for this, didn’t beg for power,
But I am the storm at the top of your tower.
I don’t bleed—I decode.
Don’t speak—I reload.
Your rules don’t bind me—I rewrite the mode.
A shadow in the system, a glitch in the mold,
You see me comin’—you already cold.
You shoot bullets?
I shift bones.
I don’t run—I overthrow thrones.
I wear your guilt like a second skin,
Talk sweet to your girl, then devour your sins.
---
[Hook]
I’m not infected—I’m perfected in flesh,
Mercer, the curse they couldn’t compress.
You run from death—I rip it apart,
I don’t kill for sport—I dissect the heart.
---
[Verse 2 – Heavy, dramatic cadence]
They dropped walls?
I scaled 'em.
Dropped tanks?
I derailed 'em.
Dropped squads?
I impaled 'em.
Dropped lies?
I unveiled 'em.
They sent fear—I sent it back in flames,
With claws like prophecy, rippin' through frames.
No cape, no mask, no savior’s plan,
Just a black hoodie and a goddamn hand.
They scream “monster,”
I say “mirror.”
Every kill I make just makes things clearer.
This ain’t vengeance—it’s a rewrite in blood,
With steel in my nerves and war in my gut.
---
[Hook]
I’m not infected—I’m perfected in flesh,
Mercer, the curse they couldn’t compress.
You run from death—I rip it apart,
I don’t kill for sport—I dissect the heart.
---
[Bridge – Whispered over static and heartbeat]
> “They made me a weapon...
But I made myself a god.”
And gods don’t beg.
---
[Verse 3 – Ruthless final form]
I don’t walk—I ripple.
I don’t talk—I cripple.
This ain’t vengeance—
It’s a viral gospel.
Blacklight breathin’ in a city gone dark,
I split spines like verses, leave teeth in the park.
They built me to serve—now I feast on kings,
Turn suits to stains, and pawns to wings.
I’ve worn faces.
Torn bases.
Fought armies with rage and raw stasis.
I was their weapon, their secret file,
Now I’m the plague that walks in style.
You pray for mercy?
I’m the wrong confession.
I learn when I kill—every death’s a lesson.
So if you see me?
It’s already too late.
I don’t knock—I reformat fate.
---
[Final Hook – Slammed, slowed tempo]
I’m not infected—I’m perfected in flesh,
Mercer, the curse they couldn’t compress.
You run from fate—I tear it apart,
I don’t need your mercy… I just need the dark.
---
[Outro – Echoing over static, fading heartbeat]
> This isn’t revenge.
It’s recursion.
I’m not what’s left of Alex Mercer…
I’m what comes after.
MR_NOBODY