**[Intro – atmospheric guitars building slow, distant thunder & whispers (Maynard-style echoing spoken word)]**
Shadows in the mirror… feeling myself…
Self-made hell… karma’s got the key…
Light’s coming… but we ain’t ready…
**[Chorus – Laid-back HorrorCore Rapper (melodic, half-sung, half-rapped – Doobie-style hook layers on top)]**
I’m on the real, I’m just feeling myself
Looking ‘round this self-made hell
Life won’t fuck too hard if you ain’t got the karma
If you’re down to keep your nose dirty, keep it numb all night long
These nights never run long enough though
Demons doing backflips while the reaper does the stroll
**[Verse 1 – Laid-back HorrorCore Rapper (slow, trippy flow – calm but ice-cold menace)]**
Mirror full of fractures, reflections plotting schemes
Voices in the cranium tearing up my dreams
Built this cage brick-by-brick with every bad decision
Horrorcore reality—no escape, no intermission
Snort another like and watch it all come alive right in front of your tired ass eyes and let the powder paint the scene
Numb the inner screaming, living in between
The living and the dead—reaper on my shoulder
Laid back in the fucking camper like, getting colder, bolder
I’m on the real, yeah, I’m feeling myself
Staring through the smoke where the shadows know they self
Life won’t fuck too hard if you ain’t got the karma
But mine’s stacking bodies like a midnight fuckin drama
Keep your nose dirty, lines like yay high
No wonder I got fried it's amazing I'm even alive
Keep it numb all night long—potion, powder, twist
Nights never run long enough though dreams slipping the trip
Dawn creeps up my spine like wow now
**[Chorus – Full, with Tool guitar swell + Doobie ad-libs (“Yeah… numb nights… hell yeah”)]**
**[Verse 2 – Doobie the Rapper (chill rock-rw & emotional, slight guitar melody underneath – his signature pain-to-power vibe)]**
Yeah, I been right where the drugs stop working, still I chase the high
Nose full of that white snow, soul searching in the sky
Karma creeping quiet like fog around the block
Self-made prison cell—keys thrown away, no lock
Roll one up or pop another just to feel alive
Comedown hits harder than the truth I can’t deny
Beauty in the boogeyman, pain has a purpose though
Doobie in the session, building chains or breaking ‘em slow
We keep it numb, keep it dirty, keep it real in the dark
Tool guitars screaming while the demons