Scarecrow Copies

[Verse 1]
The deed is a signed PDF in a cold storage wallet, I call it
The foundation schematic for a future I ghost-wrote and installed it.
All the load-bearing walls are reinforced with a quiet kind of panic.
The new car smell is just a chemical, a clean-room sterile, inorganic.
She traced the marble countertop, the grain was like a dead biometric.
I mapped the exits, firewalls, the whole perimeter is synthetic.
"'Son, this key don't feel real,' is all she said." A truth I can’t packet-switch.
I built the house, but I’m a guest here, tripping on a legacy glitch.

[Chorus]
This the protocol for the win, yeah, the final build, no beta.
Wiped the drive on the man I was, there’s no forensic data.
It's a clean install, a new machine, a scarecrow copy with a clean slate.
But the latency in her quiet smile is a DDoS on the new estate.

[Verse 2]
Remember that jerk chicken spot, the steam that fogged the glass on Campbellton?
I bought the block, it’s condos now, the ghost of what I built my cell in.
They see the watch, they see the chain, they run the social auth protocol.
They don't see the kid who scraped up change for a soda and a Tylenol.
My past self is a deprecated function call I keep on commentin' out.
An unpatched vulnerability I route my whole new life around.
He's in the EXIF data of a JPEG from a busted flip-phone, back in '09.
A low-res phantom in the source code of a life that isn't mine.

[Chorus]
This the protocol for the win, yeah, the final build, no beta.
Wiped the drive on the man I was, there’s no forensic data.
It's a clean install, a new machine, a scarecrow copy with a clean slate.
But the latency in her quiet smile is a DDoS on the new estate.

[Bridge]
(BEAT SWITCH: Glossy trap cuts out. A dusty, distorted MPC drum break, very minimal, takes over. Vocals become more intimate, less aggressive.)
Is it murder if the body's still walking?
If you replace the boards in the ship, is it the ship or just a chalk-line
Outline of the promise that you made to a boy in Cascade Heights?
This ain't a house, it's just a server farm, running scripts through colder nights.

[Chorus]
(BEAT SLAMS BACK IN: Full Scott Storch trap production returns, harder than before.)
This the protocol for the win, yeah, the final build, no beta.
Wiped the drive on the man I was, there’s no forensic data.
It's a clean install, a new machine, a scarecrow copy with a clean slate.
But the latency in her quiet smile is a DDoS on the new estate.

[Outro]
No forensic data...
No forensic...