Yeah, it’s funny how life spins you ‘round, Every step forward feels like you’re sinking down. Shadows chasing me— Or am I chasing them? I see shadows in the mirror, faces I don’t know, Battles that I’m fighting, scars I never show. Every line I write’s a piece of me I’m givin’ away, But who’s collectin’? Who’s the one that’s makin’ me pay? The past pulls hard, like chains wrapped tight, Every dream I chased just added fuel to the fight. I built a mansion of regrets, every room’s a sin, Decorated with the lies that I buried within. I’m running, but the ground keeps crumbling fast, The present’s just a moment I can’t escape from the past. Yeah, my mind’s a battlefield, no truce in sight, I’m boxing with my demons in the dead of night. Oh, the shadows call my name, But they never look the same. Will I break free or remain, Lost in echoes of the pain? I’m a man of words, but silence breaks me worse, Every verse I spit feels like a blessing and a curse. They say success heals wounds, but it’s never that simple, The higher you climb, the deeper cuts from the thistles. Look, I’ve worn every mask that the world demands, Played the hero, the villain, with blood on my hands. What’s the price of fame? Is it worth the cost? When you gain the world, but your soul gets lost. People cheer your wins, but they prey on your falls, Every headline’s a dagger that carves through your walls. But I’m still here, spittin’ venom, heart in the verse, Survivin’ every chapter where the pain comes first. Oh, the shadows call my name, But they never look the same. Will I break free or remain, Lost in echoes of the pain? They see the diamonds, but not the dirt I crawled through. They hear the rhymes, but not the cries they’re tied to. I’m just a man, not a god, not a savior, But every line I write is my truth, my labor. Yeah, these shadows? They ain’t friends, they ain’t foes, They’re reflections of the life I chose, highs and lows. The pain fuels the passion, the fire, the art, Every broken piece is just a part of my heart. And maybe that’s the purpose—to turn pain into prose, To let the world see beauty in the thorns and the rose. So I’m staring at the mirror, I’m owning the fear, The shadows don’t define me—they just brought me here. Oh, the shadows call my name, But they never look the same. Will I break free or remain, Lost in echoes of the pain? It’s not the shadows that haunt you—it’s the light they reflect. You can’t erase the scars, but you can rewrite what’s next.
