Look... just let me talk, yeah?

Swear down, I wasn't even looking for this

Just clearing out the spare room, some old shoebox under the bed... bare dust, man

I'm deeping it now

Found this old Samsung burner

The silver one

You remember?

The one we used to move weight on back in Camden

It's still got the cracked screen from when you dropped it outside the offie

I've just plugged it in... it's actually booting up

This is a madness

It's blinking at me like a ghost in the machine, innit?

Screen's flickering, blue light, looking all sick and dim

I'm sat here on the floor, legs crossed, feeling pained

Waiting for the OS to load up and reveal the shame

Wait

There it is. One new message. Date: Last July

The day before you decided that you'd rather just die

The day before the news hit me like a brick in the teeth

Now I'm scrolling through the threads while I'm struggling to breathe

You wrote, Yo, A.Mac, you about? I'm feeling a way

And I didn't even reply, man... I was busy that day

I was chasing some neek for a ton, some poxy little debt

While you were sat in your flat, putting a rope 'round your neck?

Nah... don't do this. I'm deeping the weight of it

I'm reading the words, but the verbs are all blurring and merging

My stomach is turning, the memory's burning, the furnace is surging

I'm a coward. A wallad. A fake-hearted mate

Left you alone with your demons to navigate hate

Wait

Look at the timestamp

Eleven forty-five

I was in the pub

I was laughing

I was literally laughing while you were

Fuck

Now the guilt is a sedative, negative narrative, better get relative!

I'm deeping the fact that I'm breathing and you're just a representative

Of everything wrong in my life, I'm a waste and a parasite

Sitting in cold light, wishing I could go back and just stand and fight!

Why's it me with the mic and the fame and the acclaim?

When you were the brains and the talent, I'm sick of the game!

You were the one with the heart, I'm the one with the hollowed-out shell

I'm trapped in a North London cell of my own mental hell!

I see your name on the screen and I'm screaming at silence

The grief is a riot, it's spiraling into this violence!

You were my brother, my blood, and I left you to rot

Over some pittance, some change, and some product we bought!

I hate every breath that I take, every word that I spit

Every show that I kill, every line that I hit!

I'm a fraud! I'm a snake! I'm a bottom-feeding neek!

And I'm staring at a dead man's text 'cause I'm too weak to speak!

Tell me why the wrong ones stay and the good ones go?

I'm sitting in the dust in a house that I don't even know!

The cost of living is killing me, but not in the way that they think

I'm standing on the edge of the bathroom sink!

Yeah, London is cold, but my soul is a few degrees colder

Carrying the corpse of my best friend over my shoulder!

Get it off me!

Just get it off me!

It's a malicious addiction, a vicious affliction of friction in fiction

I'm losing my grip on the script and the diction, the restriction is sickening!

I'm picking the scab of a decade of trauma, the drama is morbid

I'm looking at texts and I'm feeling exhausted, I'm nauseous, I'm forfeit!

The gentrified streets are all empty and vacant, just like my chest is

I'm a mess, kid. A pest with a vest and a death wish, I'm restless!

Shoulda been