God Complex in Check (L Rap)

They call me justice, but I ain’t divine—

Just a shadow with a mind sharper than the fuckin’ line.

You playin’ god, Kíra? I'm the consequence,

No face, no fame — just a chair, a stare, and common sense.

A sweet tooth and a death wish, don’t get it twisted,

My logic's vicious, no margin of error, my name’s encrypted.

Call me Elle — no last name, no first,

I’m the ghost in your code, makin’ psychopaths hurt.

You write names, I write profiles, I map minds,

While you're flexin’ with a note, I'm dissectin’ every sign.

Every blink, every breath, every false-ass yawn,

I’m the silence in your static when the camera’s gone.

I don't sleep — just meditate in caffeine clouds,

Slouch back, middle finger to your worshippin’ crowds.

Fuck your divine plan, I’m the doubt that creeps,

The monster in the mirror that haunts you when you sleep.

Kíra, bitch, I see your mask — I see your cracks,

You ain’t a god, just a bitch with a notebook and panic attacks.

I ain't holy, ain't heroic, but I'm checkin’ your steps,

'Cause when you play god, I show up to cash the debt.

You think you're flawless? I found your prints in pride,

You're just another sociopath with murder to hide.

I watched your girl die, watched your smile decay,

Every lie you fed was another fuckin’ game I played.

Ryúk laughin’ in the wings, but I ain't scared of death,

Already lived like a ghost, with nothin’ left.

Watari's got my six — rest in peace to the realest,

We ain’t soldiers, but damn sure the cleanest.

Testin’ me? I’ll leave your ego in chalk,

Walk circles 'round your mind 'til your sanity walks.

You kept killin’ — I kept diggin’ with surgical flair,

Now I'm breathin’ down your neck from this low-ass chair.

Mísa ain’t your queen, she’s just a pawn on the board,

And you? Just another name I’ll escort to the Lord.

You ain’t feared — you’re predicted, cracked wide like a code,

Thought you ran the world, till I flipped your fuckin’ mode.

Kíra, bitch, I see your mask — I see your cracks,

You ain’t a god, just a bitch with a notebook and panic attacks.

I ain't holy, ain't heroic, but I'm checkin’ your steps,

'Cause when you play god, I show up to cash the debt.

This ain't justice or vengeance — it’s control,

You write deaths, I write truths on your soul.

Even in death, I’m the name you dread,

Elle never sleeps — I live rent-free in your head.