Voices
• Written by RYD
//there are three voices; RYD (me), toxicity and self love try figure out who is who
//0:15 – 0:45 | Verse 1
You a poet with a panic spine,
Tryna paint peace with a tangled line.
You quote Jung, but you fear the void,
Patch your past with decoys and noise.
Nah, he walks through doubt with mindful steps,
Carves clarity in the cleft of depth.
Reads Camus with a side of pain,
Doesn’t hide the cracks—just plants the grain.
You slow down when it matters most.
Still stare at phones like a ghost post.
Nah, he listens first, lets silence teach—
Not all soldiers swing, some preach.
//0:45 – 1:15 | Verse 2
It's not that I want 'em here,
It's just they showed up when the mirror cleared.
One tells me I’m just not enough,
The other says it’s okay to bluff.
They fight like jazz in a minor scale,
Both got points, but they twist the tale.
I write to quiet ‘em, rhyme to steer,
Even if I still got ghosts in the rear.
I’m not tryin’ to be deep for clout,
Just tryna make peace when the lights go out.
Some nights I fold, some nights I climb,
But I never let ‘em write my lines.
//1:15 – 1:35 | Bridge
You a maze with no exit plan.
But you built the walls with your own hands.
Just quit, just fade, don’t act grand.
You ain’t loud, but you still stand.
Let me think, let me bleed in peace.
I’m not broken — I’m just in piece.
//1:35 – 2:05 | Final Hook
They echo loud, but I know the script...
Sink in doubt.
Lift that grip.
They split my thoughts like fault lines flick,
Stay where it's safe.
Nah—let it stick.
I don’t play God, I just play true,
And sometimes, that’s the hardest move.
//2:05 – 2:45 | Outro
You’ll never outrun what you built…
Then walk with it—grace over guilt.
I’m not a prophet, I’m not a flame…
I’m just a man tryna own his name.
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About the Artist
RYD
Member since April 9 2025