I'm Gonna Die, Bitch

Lyrics

I'ma Die, Bitch!

Bounced the track at 2am
Named it "New One Final, Real"
Send you three links with a heart
And a "Dude, don't judge the mix"

Woke up checked my phone to see
How hard it made you feel
All I got was 
"Busy day, I'll hit it later, 6-ish"

Now it's Thursday, that was Monday
And the file just stares at me
I'm refreshin' like a lab rat
On a sugar spittin' key

Little waveforms sittin' smugly
In the thread we always use
Every minute you don't listen
Feels like bad review by snooze

Hit play before I die, bitch
I'm not bein' chill
Every hour you don't text back
Is another little kill

Organs on backorder
'Till you say "this part's sick"
Lungs on pre-sale
For your one-word pick

I don't need a novel
Just a "Yo" or "Hook's insane"
Just a five-word blessing
That justifies the pain

You say "I've just be slammed"
Yeah, I know, same sky
But if you don't press play soon
Swear to god I'm gonna die

I’ve staged the whole reaction
in my head a hundred ways
You don't say shit, 
and I'm rewriting for three days

Ya you prolly just busy, 
and I pretending to be calm
But right now all I’ve got’s
a ghost of you that never hits the song

I’m out with friends, half there,
half living in that feck
Every joke I fake a laugh at... 
then I sneak another check

They’re talking rent and holidays,
I’m hearing snare and bass
Like your thumbs will finally move
and let my heartbeat leave that place

Hit play before I die, bitch,
I’m not being chill
Every hour you don’t text back
is another little kill

My stomach’s on a click track
waitin' for your word
My spine’s in sidechain hell
'Till your verdict been heard

I don’t need confetti,
Just a “dude, this might be it”
Just a lazy “this goes hard”
While your dinner’s half-lit

You say, 
“I’ll get to it, I swear, I’m just fried”
But if you don’t hit play soon,
low-key think I'm gonna die

I know it’s just four minutes
on your cracked old phone
But it’s hours of my life
packed in there all alone

If you knew how loud the silence is
on dis side of the chat
You’d carve out thirty seconds
just to say “yeah, keep dat track”

Day three, I start defending you
to people who don’t care
But I’m bargaining with air
and this imaginary stare
He’s just working, he’s exhausted,
he’ll reply when he can breathe
Where you hate the whole thing quietly
and just decide to leave

Then out of nowhere, single bubble:
“SORRY, DUDE, THAT’S SHIT IS GREAT”
Body reboot, soul reboot,
entire nervous system late

I read it twelve times,
suddenly my kitchen feels like church
Funny how we almost died
just waiting on those words

Hit play, I'm back bitch,
my ghost can finally chill
Every second we were waiting
was a tiny overkill

My heart comes off the click track
when you say “this hits”
My doubt goes out for coffee,
leaves us here with bits

We don’t need a trophy,
just that lazy, honest line
The one that says, 
“yeah, this feels like something kinda mine”

Next time don’t make us haunt
that unread little sky
Just hit play while you’re busy,
save me days I almost died