Self Control Warrior

[Intro] Singer A: Why is this fanny-ass mirror staring right back at me? Singer B: You burning bridges, you absolute fucking cockwomble, let it be. Singer A: Paranoid strategist, my brain is a ticking sack of shite. Singer B: You absolute prick, let’s see who survives the night. [Verse 1] Singer A [Drill]: I'm locked in this mental warfare, running on pure cold dread, Every time I speak my truth, I shoot myself in the head. This inner conflict is heavy, a relentless fuking storm, I’m sitting here over-thinking while my composure starts to deform. Singer B [Trap]: You’re a paranoid tosser, drowning in your own damn pride, Nowhere left to fucking run, nowhere left to fucking hide. You burn every single bridge because you trust absolutely no one, You absolute knobhead, look at the damage you have done. [Hook] Both [Rap]: Self-control warrior, fighting off the inner ghost, I am my own worst enemy, I hate myself the most. A calculated strategist with a brain full of toxic waste, Every single victory leaves a bitter fucking taste. Self-control warrior, fighting off the inner ghost, I am my own worst enemy, I hate myself the most. A calculated strategist with a brain full of toxic waste, Every single victory leaves a bitter fucking taste. [Verse 2 – UK Drill] Singer A: Look at this waste of good oxygen staring at the screen, The meanest fuking strategist that these streets have ever seen. My hunger is rabid, but my judgment is entirely skewed, I'm paranoid of everybody, feeling so deeply screwed. Singer B: You absolute shitgibbon, you couldn't organise a piss-up in a brewery, Your trust issues are ruining your entire whole bloody ancestry. You're a roadman reject acting like a bloody general, This war with myself is toxic, permanent and mineral. [Hook] Both [Rap]: Self-control warrior, fighting off the inner ghost, I am my own worst enemy, I hate myself the most. A calculated strategist with a brain full of toxic waste, Every single victory leaves a bitter fucking taste. Self-control warrior, fighting off the inner ghost, I am my own worst enemy, I hate myself the most. A calculated strategist with a brain full of toxic waste, Every single victory leaves a bitter fucking taste. [Bridge] Singer A [Slow rap flow]: Wind your neck in, you absolute muppet... wait, no, you're a fuckwit, I step into the cage and then I instantly regret it. Singer B [Slow rap flow]: Do one, you absolute bampot, your mind is a crime scene, The ugliest face like a smacked arse that I've ever seen. [Verse 3 – Emphasise on metaphorical lyrics] Singer A: I build iron fortresses just to smash them down with my fist, A phantom shadow boxer through the heavy fog and the mist. My brain is a chessboard where every single pawn is a curse, I write my own redemption while I dig my bloody hearse. Singer B: You pussyhole strategist, your armor is made out of glass, You’re kissing your own reflection while you’re falling flat on your ass. Quit whining, you toerag, and weather the goddamn storm, You built this fucking monster when you decided to conform. [Hook] Both [Rap]: Self-control warrior, fighting off the inner ghost, I am my own worst enemy, I hate myself the most. A calculated strategist with a brain full of toxic waste, Every single victory leaves a bitter fucking taste. Self-control warrior, fighting off the inner ghost, I am my own worst enemy, I hate myself the most. A calculated strategist with a brain full of toxic waste, Every single victory leaves a bitter fucking taste. [Hook] Both [Rap]: Self-control warrior, fighting off the inner ghost, I am my own worst enemy, I hate myself the most. A calculated strategist with a brain full of toxic waste, Every single victory leaves a bitter fucking taste. Self-control warrior, fighting off the inner ghost, I am my own worst enemy, I hate myself the most. A calculated strategist with a brain full of toxic waste, Every single victory leaves a bitter fucking taste. [Outro] Singer A: Jog on, you absolute bastard, the battle is finally done. Singer B: We lost the fucking war, but hey, at least we saw the sun. Singer A: Another cooked track for the books, absolute fuking pain. Singer B: Shut your trap, you prick, we're doing this shit again.