Monetized

Ain't it just powerful how some jackass always thinks they’re the top dog

Swinging their limp ego like a goddamn wrecking ball

Crushing every ounce of dignity left around them, power, yeah

Morons blasting garbage into the ears of everyone forced to listen to that crap

Power to trample, to manipulate, to jerk the steering wheel

Meanwhile, we’re all stuck marinating in our own isolation, eating shitty meals

And building our sad little fortresses out of Netflix subscriptions

And delivery apps, because going outside means dealin’

With even more mouth-breathing wastes of oxygen

No one can hear your screams over the sound of your own self-pity

Criticism is a sport now, everybody with a thumb and a Wi-Fi signal

Suddenly thinks they’re the next Plato, vomiting half-baked opinions

Like projectile diarrhea, criticism isn't about getting better anymore

It’s about shoving your foot so far up someone else’s asshole

That your laces come out their mouth, then there’s the stupid stench

Of violence hanging in the air like a fart in a crowded elevator, or even shit

Fists, words, everything you don’t say but damn well mean

Slipping into DMs you shouldn’t be in, pirating some sad bastard’s dreams

Siphoning hope out of people like some greasy, soul-sucking parasite

With a social media account, swinging your bloated ego across the site

Like it’s Excalibur, when really you’re just another overhyped clown

Juggling other people’s ideas with your greasy hands, then claiming the crown

Power is paraded around like a trophy wife, corportations flexing their muscles

Turning workers into human stress balls while the rest of us struggle

Every community pushes you further into your own echo chamber

Until you’re out of touch, they want you alone, that’s what they aim for

Binging true crime documentaries, at this rate, you’ll be talking

To a wall, and congratulating yourself for self-care while you’re rotting

Criticism is threads full of semi-illiterate rage babies trying to throw

Knockout punches, nobody’s got a brain cell left to rub against another, bro

Clowns pretending they’re giving constructive feedback by roasting you

Guess what, your opinion’s worth less than expired gas station sushi, dude

Every time you breathe in this sewage air, you’re inhaling pure violence

It isn't shocking anymore, because they made shooting someone till they die a

Tuesday night hobby, mass shootings scroll past on your feed

Like bad weather reports, and you just keep scrolling indeed

Because what the fuck else are you gonna do, crime is the new entrepreneurship

Everyone claps like trained seals while an overdraft fee is $35 bucks, it’s bullshit

And while you’re busy with the applause, someone’s picking your pocket at

Target for a six-pack of ramen, because the economy

Is about as stable as Britney Spears' Instagram feed is

Crime isn’t breaking laws anymore, it’s surviving reality, bitch

Power laughs at you from skyscrapers shaped like middle fingers

While you sit there eating it up because you're too brain-dead

To realize you've been sold nostalgia in a plastic baggie, you have a slow head

Isolation is sold back to you as luxury, they charge you 2,500 bucks

So you can pedal your sad little stationary bike alone while not giving a fuck

And pretending you’re part of something bigger than your own existential damage

Everyone's got a hot take, and none of them are worth wiping your ass with

The entire moral fabric is just a wet tissue, people are becoming loyal

To self-loathing that’s been sold to them by influencers, who spoil

Everything, and criticism is monetized, jackasses offering masterclasses

For $99, to fix your mediocrity with three recycled quotes