Yo, to exist or dip, that's the whole vibe check, right? Is it braver to just eat the L, bite the spite, When life's throwing shade, those savage, salty roasts, Or to hard reset, ghost the whole damn coast? Delete the feels, no cap, a forever snooze, A clean slate, fam, no more mental abuse. Imagine, just...fade, like a glitch in the code. But plot twist, wait—the lore gets hella deep. If there's a snooze after we straight up yeet, What kind of nightmare fuel, forever sleep gonna spawn? A worse dimension? That's the real, hard con. 'Cause who wants infinite time, on repeat, Stuck in the same toxic, glitchy street? Who'd tolerate the mansplaining, cringe-lord trash, The system's rigged games, the power-trip clash? The slow-burn torture of unrequited feels, The legal system's cap, where justice reels, And the audacity of the privileged, untouched crew, When I could just peace out, with a phantom shiv, too? Who'd carry the weight, the phantom bruise, Where gaslight's shadow, truth refuse? Like, my pain's just vibes? They think it's a joke? It's 'cause the mystery of what happens when we ghost, That uncharted territory, where all feels are lost, Keeps us playing it safe, low-key, no cap. Easier to deal with the current crap. So, conscience makes us all major simps, it's true. Our fire, our ambition, fades to sickly blue, Covered in the pale, mid-tier fear, Of overthinking it, year after tragic year. All those epic plans, those dreams we held so tight, Get twisted around, and poof—vanish into night. We never send it, that's the biggest L, no doubt. But maybe, just maybe, we could just figure the tea out.