Twenty One Inches From Death

[Intro]
Red room
Cold chains
Two chairs
One game
Numbers glow
Screen hums
Timer ticks
Here it comes (yeah)

[Verse 1]
They drag me in, duct tape on my mouth
Rip it off, taste blood, hear him shout
"Welcome to Twenty One, bitch, play smart
Or that blade kiss cartilage, split hearts"

Other dude tied up, eyes wide, no sleep
Tattoos on his neck, hands bound to the seat
We both got keypads bolted in our laps
One wrong tap, we get turned into scraps

Host in a mask, cheap suit, big grin
Pacing like a priest tryna bless our sin
Lights flicker blue on the rust and grime
He says, "Closest to the number, but you cross that line—

You’re fucked, you’re finished, you’re face to steel
Buzzsaw kisses you, make your brain peel
Knives in a circle, chrome in your breath
Play dumb, play scared, you play with death"

[Pre-Chorus]
I hear that motor purr
Like it knows my name
He says, "You better learn
How to love this game"

[Chorus]
Twenty one inches from death, I’m staring
At a buzzsaw made of knives, that shit’s glaring
Every single guess that I make, gets scarier
If I go one over, I’m fuckin' carrier
Of my own last thoughts, painted on the floor
"Twenty one" echo banging on the door
If I lose, I’m a stain on the wall, no breath
If I win, I gotta live with this shit in my head

[Verse 2]
Round one, digits flash on the cracked old screen
"Pick a number," he laughs, "keep it clean"
Other guy coughs, spits blood on his chest
Whispers, "Fuck you, freak, I’m still the best"

He slams in "nineteen" with a broken thumb
I’m staring at my pad, heartbeat like a drum
Do I go high? Go low? Play safe?
Host taps the saw, it screams in my face

I type "eighteen", sweat drips in my eyes
Metal in the air, sick smell of old lives
Screen flips, shows "twenty"
He howls, "Alright"

Saw crawls forward with a hungry light
Stops by his cheek, just shaving the hair
Host says, "Close call, bitch, you still there?"
He laughs in my direction, dead man joke
"I’m gonna fuckin' win, watch you choke"

[Pre-Chorus]
I feel that table shake
Every gear that grinds
We’re betting flesh and faith
On goddamn tiny lines

[Chorus]
Twenty one inches from death, I’m staring
At a buzzsaw made of knives, that shit’s glaring
Every single guess that I make, gets scarier
If I go one over, I’m fuckin' carrier
Of my own last thoughts, painted on the floor
"Twenty one" echo banging on the door
If I lose, I’m a stain on the wall, no breath
If I win, I gotta live with this shit in my head (yeah)

[Verse 3]
Host clicks a remote, chains yank us close
We’re almost nose to nose, smell fear, smell smoke
"This ain’t numbers only," he grins insane
"You can trash each other, break each other’s brains"

Other dude leans in with a crooked smile
"Kid, I’ve gamed these games since I was vile
You look like you flinch at your own damn shadow
I’ll drag your soul through this slaughterhouse gallows"

I bark back, "Fuck you, I know your type
Big talk till your skull meets steel in a stripe"
He says, "Cool story, hero, say it to the fan"
Host hits a button, blades twitch like damn

Screen spits "Thirteen"
Timer’s set short
Host says, "You got five seconds, make it a sport"
His eyes lock mine
We both punch fast
He slams "twelve", I slam "eleven" last

Screen shows "thirteen"
We both too low
Host shrugs, "Well, tie means both you grow"
He