Intro (quiet, spoken) Room don’t move… but my head won’t stop. I don’t hate the world — I hate how I react to it. Verse 1 I wake up already judging my reflection, like I owe the mirror an explanation. Every breath feels like it’s under review, every move I make I gotta prove. I carry pressure like it’s part of my name, turn normal mistakes into lifelong shame. People say “you’re fine,” but I don’t agree — they don’t hear what I say to me. I don’t trust calm, it feels temporary, peace always leaves, that’s necessary. So I stay tense, stay ready for pain, like expecting the hit keeps me safe. I replay conversations I should’ve left alone, rewrite moments till the good is gone. I don’t need reminders of where I went wrong — my mind already keeps them on repeat all day long. I act confident, but it’s learned behavior, a defense I built so I don’t look weaker. Truth is I don’t know how to be proud without hearing doubt get loud. Hook I’m still here, but I don’t feel strong, just surviving moments I thought I’d be gone. I don’t fall down, I don’t move on — I just stay standing where I don’t belong. If this is healing, it’s quiet and slow, no big relief, no “letting go.” I don’t feel better, I don’t feel clear — I’m just still here… yeah, I’m still here. Verse 2 I tell myself “do better,” then raise the line, set expectations I can’t satisfy. Every win feels borrowed, every rest feels wrong, like peace is something I haven’t earned. People say “you’re hard on yourself,” like that’s something I can turn off at will. They don’t understand how loud it gets when you measure your worth by regret. I don’t need someone else to break me down, I already perfected that sound. I question my value, question my voice, even when I know I had a choice. I keep thinking strength means staying cold, never letting the damage show. But all it’s done is teach me how to carry weight without knowing how. Some nights I just sit with it all, not fixing, not fighting, just feeling small. I don’t need answers, I don’t need cheer — I just need the noise to disappear. Bridge (low, honest) If I go quiet, I’m not retreating — I’m just tired of always competing. Not with the world, not with my past — just with the voice that never lasts. No crowd, no stage, no one to impress — just me learning how to coexist. Final Hook I’m still here, but I don’t feel strong, just breathing through what feels wrong. I don’t win big, I don’t collapse — I just exist between the cracks. Maybe one day I’ll feel okay without questioning every step I take. Till that moment, I stay right here — not healed… but still here. Outro (spoken, steady) Same mind… same weight… but I didn’t disappear today. That has to count… even if nothing else does.

Residual