AnonymousMUSIQ | System Error ⚠️ | Lyrical Rap Against The Machine (2025 Truth Anthem) | #13

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"System Error" is a hard-hitting, high-IQ rap that exposes corruption, censorship, and control in the digital age.
Inspired by lyrical giants like Chris Webby, this track breaks down the system bar by bar — raw, real, and unfiltered.
It’s not left, it’s not right — it’s the truth they don’t want you to hear.

🎧 This is rebellion through rhythm.
🔥 Visuals powered by AI for that next-gen underground feel.
📡 For those who think beyond the headlines.

Lyrics:
(Verse 1)
I’m the glitch in the code, the bug they can’t patch,
Encrypted thought patterns with a rebel dispatch.
Told me follow the science, but it’s all a mismatch,
When they silence real voices and let the puppets dispatch.

Stack stats like Webby on a logic spree,
Droppin' facts like payloads — no apology.
Mandates, lockdowns, data in disguise,
While they sip on champagne watchin’ stocks rise.

They sell fear in a media trance,
Put truth in a cage, now it don’t stand a chance.
I ain’t red, I ain’t blue, I’m just done with the dance,
Where the rich write rules and the poor don’t advance.

(Chorus)
This ain’t conspiracy, it’s system error,
You just sleepin’ through the terror.
Algorithm-fed mascara,
Coverin' up truth with glamour.

We don’t need more actors,
We need raw truth reactors.
So I spit it through the static,
Webby-style — automatic.

(Verse 2)
They tax your breath, then sell your data,
Track your thoughts through terms and beta.
Push agendas via clickbait theater,
Then fact-check your pain like they some creators.

You tweet rage, they log it, monetize your fight,
Your protest gets sold before it sees daylight.
You march, they laugh from a private flight,
Buildin’ walls out of laws while they dim your rights.

Elections a circus, news ain’t the source,
It’s a rerun script with a rigged discourse.
Big tech gods with invisible force,
Tryna pilot your mind off its natural course.

(Bridge)
Yo, they don’t want thinkers, they want routine,
Livin’ life looped through a touchscreen screen.
I’d rather bleed bars than be pacified clean,
'Cause silence is gold in a dead man’s dream.

(Outro)
So I fire off shots through these lyrical drones,
Call it digital war in a post-truth zone.
System glitch, but the signal’s grown—
One bar at a time ‘til the matrix is blown.

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