Track 13- Mirror
INTRO
Listen—
the mirror don’t reflect.
It reports.
VERSE 1
The mirror is a mouth with metal teeth,
it chews my face, then spits a “perfect” me.
Streetlights sip sorrow, blinking like they pray,
while sidewalks sweat the secrets we don’t say.
I seen halos sold in packs at corner stores,
I seen saints turn scanners at the velvet doors.
My smile? a mask—mosaic made of tape,
a borrowed shape, a corporate-choir cape.
I’m rich in the feed, bankrupt in the bone,
a ringtone king in an empty throne.
My shadow signs contracts behind my back,
and I shake hands with the panic I attract.
PRE-CHORUS
Not for the likes.
Not for the lights.
Not for the applause that poisons the nights.
Not for the chain.
Not for the crown.
I want the truth when the whole thing drown.
’Cause quiet ain’t peace—quiet is camouflage.
Quiet ain’t calm—quiet is sabotage.
CHORUS
Mirror, mirror—who’s in there? who’s in there?
Is my spirit still in there? still in there?
Behind the gold—who’s in there? who’s in there?
Behind the glow—who’s in there? who’s in there?
Or is that face just fashion and a lie? fashion and a lie?
Quiet is a lie. quiet is a lie.
Quiet is a lie. quiet is a lie.
POST-CHORUS
Lie in the linen. Lie in the lace.
Lie in the smile on a straightened face.
Lie in the silence. Lie in the “fine.”
Lie in the pause when you ask “you alright?”
VERSE 2
Money talk slick like it got a new tongue,
it call you “chosen” then it choose you for crumbs.
A Bentley purr, but it purr like a cage,
a jet lift high, but it lift like a wage.
Boardroom shark in a suit so clean
it make cold look like a holy thing.
He say “family,” his teeth say “fees,”
he bless you with stress and call it “peace.”
I bought me a chain—it chained my chest,
I bought me a ring—it rang my rest.
My phone got more face than my real face do,
my brand got a halo and my soul got used.
And quiet? quiet stand there like a guard,
arms folded, grin sharp, heart unplugged from God.
PRE-CHORUS 2
Not in the champagne.
Not in the smoke.
Not in the joke that you force in your throat.
Not in the crowd.
Not in the clout.
I hear the truth when the lights go out.
CHORUS (repeat)
BRIDGE
The mirror is a courtroom made of chrome—
I’m both the witness and the one on trial alone.
I hide my hurt to look like I’m at peace,
I look like I’m at peace to hide my hurt.
I traded sleep for shine—then traded shine for shame;
I chased a name for love—then lost love to the name.
Now silence got a siren in its throat,
and every quiet room becomes a note.
BREAKDOWN
This is the gospel of glare.
The scripture of screens.
The altar of angles.
The religion of “seen.”
And the devil don’t come with horns—
he come with a ring light.
VERSE 3
I’m loud now—like lightning learning speech,
I crack the sky, I preach to concrete knees.
The fame machine got hungry human jaws,
it eats your years and calls it “just because.”
My trophies turn tombstone, lined in rows,
my mansion feel like jail with better clothes.
My laughter cough, my joy get repossessed,
my prayer get throttled in the comment section.
So tell me, mirror—am I man or mask?
A soul with scars… or an invoice with a past?
If quiet is a lie then noise is