No Safety

—click—

Reload the cadence.

Yeah.

Don’t blink.

Mind like malware, corrupt your whole system

Syntax lethal, every sentence go missing

I don’t rap—this is violent linguistics

Every bar punch holes in your statistics

I’m a glitch in the grid, you a blip in the frame

I don’t chase no clout, I eclipse your name

Talk slick online, get zipped by the shame

I put periods on threats, punctuation is pain

808 heartbeat, death march rhythm

Breath too calm for the shit I’m givin’

You still “next up,” I BEEN that vision

I don’t need faith, I bend conditions

Crosswords with the crosses, I bury the doubt

Every line double-edged, merry-go-round

They spin narratives—I spin your mouth

Talk reckless once, now you very real quiet

Uh.

Load again.

I’m grime with intent, drill with a thesis

Street-smart syntax, mind got degrees in

Pressure cook flows till the beat start wheezin’

I don’t miss words—I season

Knife talk metaphors, cut too clean

I dissect careers with a deadpan scheme

They want smoke? I fog machines

Hazy synths when I haunt your dreams

Scouse cadence, venomous vowels

Every syllable sharp like a glass-mouth smile

I don’t bark loud—I don’t need growls

I let time prove who the fuck on trial

You a pawn with a platform, a tweet with a pulse

I’m a blackout clause in the fine-print laws

Every move premeditated, false

I don’t “snap”—I dissolve

No safety, no saints

No mercy, no brakes

Talk shit—don’t faint

Deneria—don’t play

No safety, no leash

Bare knuckles, cold speech

If I said it—I mean

Every. Fucking. Thing.

I’m a paradox wrapped in a threat display

Ice in my lungs, still I set shit ablaze

You move sideways, I rotate planes

Different altitudes, different stakes

I don’t need bars, I need ventilation

Breath control like interrogation

Every rhyme scheme got compensation

You owe respect with accumulation

I’m punctuation heavy—exclaim my presence

Question marks hang where you lost your sentence

I don’t cap lines, I amend your message

Red pen flow, I edit your existence

Fuck your mentor, fuck your scene

Fuck your list and who you seen

I don’t fit boxes—I break routines

I’m what happen when rage get clean

No leash, no law

No pause, no awe

I don’t beef—I war

What you thought this was for?

No leash, no leash

All bite, no preach

They want peace—I feast

On the fear they keep

I’m a siren in silence, a riot in rest

I don’t flex—I compress

Whole careers under pressure, distress

You crumble mid-bar, I finesse

This ain’t luck, this is bloodline math

Years of fury in a 16 dash

I don’t crash out—I calculate paths

Then laugh while the aftermath snaps

If the beat got bones, I break ‘em

If the mic got limits, erase ‘em

You pray for a shot, I take ‘em

Then reload the verse and outpace ‘em

No gods.

No gatekeepers.

No safety.