Glow Ghost Empire

Lyrics

The structure is crumbling, you’ve got no foundation, Just a ghost in the static, a glitch in the station. You’re trying to cover the scent of the grime, But no concealer can mask the weight of the crime. I’m a phantom in the alley, a blur in the flow, Invisible like lip gloss, I’m a ghost with a glow. See the shine on the surface but you can’t grab a hold, A transparent killer in a world turning cold. ​I highlighter the exit before the gates close, Putting shine on the terror that nobody knows. While you’re stuck in the dirt, I’m the light on the bone, A shimmering signal in a "no-signal" zone. Then we setting spray the block just to keep it all still, Freeze the frame of the moment, the cold and the chill. No smudging the evidence, no wiping the slate, Once the mist hits the air, you’re a victim of fate. ​You’re primered for impact, prepped for the fall, Written in the texture of a crumbling wall. The prep work is over, the layers are thin, I can see through the mask to the panic within. Transparent and slick, I’m the slip in your grip, The invisible edge where the confident trip. (Chorus) It’s a cold aesthetic, a painted-on grin, Where the mask you wear is thicker than your skin. The streets don't forgive, they don't wash away, We’re living in the colors of a permanent gray. (Verse) Scrub the slate clean with a harsh cleanser soul, Wiping out the prints as I take full control. I’m the toner for the block, I balance the grit, Tightening the pores of the place where we sit. You’re thirsty for mercy, I’m the moisturizer rain, Soothing the heat but concealing the pain. ​I hit 'em with the bronzer, a metallic eclipse, The color of the casing as the magazine trips. Check the palette on the dash, every shade is a threat, From the charcoal of mourning to the silver of sweat. I’m the glitter in the gravel, the spark in the dark, A shimmering ghost leaving a permanent mark. ​I use the tweezers for the details, pulling the wire, Precision in the chaos, the ice in the fire. Then I matte out the noise, take the shine off the flex, Leaving everything dull for the souls who are next. Apply the lip liner, drawing borders in blood, Defining the limit where the boots hit the mud. The beauty blender softens how the body will hit, Seamless transition as the darkness gets lit. (Chorus) It’s a cold aesthetic, a painted-on grin, Where the mask you wear is thicker than your skin. The streets don't forgive, they don't wash away, We’re living in the colors of a permanent gray (Verse) ​The primer is applied, prepping the concrete for war, I’m the heavy-duty solvent knocking down your front door. I strip the finish off your pride with a makeup remover, No witness left alive, nothing left to manoeuvre. I’m invisible like a ghost, just a shimmer on the blade, A transparent threat lurking deep in the shade. Watch the eyebrow pencil as I draw a thin line, The border of the territory that’s no longer a spine ​It's the false lash flutter, a deceptive disguise, Adding weight to the vision, masking truth from the eyes. We use the cotton round to soak up the spill, Bleaching out the memory of the heat and the chill. I’ve got the stain on my hands that no water can lift, A permanent pigment as the paradigms shift. The face mask is hardened, the porcelain is cracked, There’s no turning around once the suitcase is packed. ​I hit the tanning oil till the chrome starts to bake, Reflecting the ripples on the top of the lake. While you’re exfoliating secrets, trying to shed your own past, I’m the final top coat, built rugged to last. The compact is closed, clicking shut on your breath, A mirrored reflection of a dance with your death. I’m the color corrector, turning red back to black, The ghost in the gloss and I’m never coming back. (Chorus) It’s a cold aesthetic, a painted-on grin, Where the mask you wear is thicker than your skin. The streets don't forgive, they don't wash away, We’re living in the colors of a permanent gray (Verse) ​The serum seeps deep, preparing the skin for the cold, A chemical silence for the stories untold. I’m the makeup wipe dragging across a guilty face, Removing every feature, leaving nothing but space. I use the eyelash curler like a grip on your throat, Bending the perspective of the lies that you quote. The beauty oil slickens up the path of the slide, A smooth, greasy surface where the skeletons hide. ​I’m the serpantine palette, shades of venom and moss, Calculating profit while I'm weighing the loss. Check the kabuki brush, sweeping shells off the deck, A soft, velvet touch right before I break a neck. I’ve got the lip plump swelling up the talk in the room, The vanity of ego right before the big boom. I’m the manicure drill, grinding down on the grit, Taking off the surface till the cylinder’s lit. ​We use the blotting paper to absorb the soul's heat, Removing all the shine from the face of defeat. I’m the cuticle pusher, shoving back at the frame, Redefining borders and the rules of the game.