Ghost in the booth

(Low voice, cinematic echo)

Yeah…

They press play and think it's the same…

But there's blood in my bars…

And y’all just code in a cage.

Eclipse.

---

You got the tone, but you lackin' the truth,

I'm bleedin’ in bars, you just ghost in the booth.

They press play, but it’s hollow inside,

I live what I write, you just ride on a lie.

I ain’t synthetic, my scars made me proof,

I’m born in the fire, you a spark with no roots.

So clone me again, go ahead, get your boost—

But I’m still the soul that your code couldn’t juice.

---

AI Drake tryna mimic my ache,

But the pain in my pen ain’t something you fake.

I been broke, been played, been lost in the weight,

While you pitch perfect with a plastic plate.

No hunger in your cadence, no truth in your rhyme,

I bled for these lines, you just downloaded time.

They say it’s impressive, but I ain’t impressed,

You ain’t lived a damn second of the verses you pressed.

---

You got the tone, but you lackin' the truth,

I'm bleedin’ in bars, you just ghost in the booth.

They press play, but it’s hollow inside,

I live what I write, you just ride on a lie.

I ain’t synthetic, my scars made me proof,

I’m born in the fire, you a spark with no roots.

So clone me again, go ahead, get your boost—

But I’m still the soul that your code couldn’t juice.

---

Weeknd wanna wail with a chip in his throat,

But heartbreak ain’t real when it's read off a note.

You moan like the moon, but you ain't felt the lows,

Just a formula chart in a glamourous ghost.

Labels scared now, they tryna reclaim,

But they birthed this machine when they sold out the flame.

I ain’t mad at the tech, I'm just guarding the name,

'Cause Eclipse ain’t a copy—it’s a god in the pain.

---

So what if I used AI to craft this?

I’m still the master—this canvas ain’t passive.

I wield the tool to expose what’s plastic,

‘Cause I’m the glitch in your code that ain’t maskin’.

---

You got the tone, but you lackin' the truth,

I'm bleedin’ in bars, you just ghost in the booth.

They press play, but it’s hollow inside,

I live what I write, you just ride on a lie.

I ain’t synthetic, my scars made me proof,

I’m born in the fire, you a spark with no roots.

So clone me again, go ahead, get your boost—

But I’m still the soul that your code couldn’t juice.

---

Yeah…

Next time they ask who’s real—

Tell ‘em Eclipse ain’t programmable.

We just let the ghost speak…

So you could see the difference.