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A playground for AI music and art. I write the lyrics, and the algorithms handle the rest. I create these tracks for fun and to share positive energy. Enjoy the experiments." Don't take it personally. It's just for fun. Title: OUT OF CONTROL Brace yourself for a sonic dissection of authority. "OUT OF CONTROL" is a dark, industrial assault on the "department of no," exposing the paralyzing fear behind rigid protocols. Manic laughter and ominous bass lines underscore a brutal takedown of those who hide behind bureaucracy, mistaking caution for courage. This is a call to break free from the dusty textbooks and let real healing begin. 🏥🔥💀 #OutOfControl #IndustrialTrap #DarkMusic #AntiAuthority #InfectionControl #MusicVideo #NewMusic #YouTubeMusic #UndergroundHipHop #Rebellion Lyrics: [Intro] [Dark, ominous bass wobbles] [Manic laughter in the background] Yeah. Infection Control. The department of "No." The department of "I'm too scared to act, so I'll stop you instead." Let’s dissect the dissecters. [Verse 1] You walk in the room, temperature drops to zero degrees Not 'cause you're cool, but 'cause you freeze up and seize You got a protocol for breathing, a guideline for blinking But I don't see a single synapse actually thinking You cloak your hesitancy in layers of rigid text Terrified of what happens now, scared of what happens next So you build a wall of "Caution," paint it with "Safety First" But we all know inside you're just dying of thirst Thirst for control, 'cause you got none over yourself You're just a dusty textbook sitting high on the shelf. [Chorus] You mistake inflexibility for strength, you're a fraud Playing god with a clipboard, expecting us to applaud? Caution ain't courage, man, you got the definitions twisted If common sense was a virus, you effectively resisted! Rudeness ain't knowledge, being a jerk ain't a skill You’re the type to let a patient die just to test a pill Hesitation is your weapon, bureaucracy your shield Get the hell out the way and let the real doctors heal! [Verse 2] "Stop! Don't touch! Did you wash? Did you scrub?" You treat the ICU like it's a social club For your ego to trip on, looking down your nose Striking an intellectual, arrogant pose But it's hollow, it's empty, it's fear in a mask You panic anytime you're assigned a real task So you scream about hygiene, you yell about rules Mistaking the masters for the stubbornest mules You think being rude makes you look like a sage? Nah, it looks like a toddler throwing fits in a cage. [Bridge] [Beat switches to half-time, heavy and distorted] You say you're protecting the house. I say you're hiding the mouse. Squeaking out orders. Closing the borders. Of logic. Of reason. To you, innovation is treason. You're not a guardian. You're a gatekeeper to a graveyard. [Verse 3] You sanitize everything except your attitude Treating colleagues with zero gratitude You think you're the firewall? You're just a glitch A breakdown in the system, a neurotic itch So cloak your fear, wrap it tight in your gown While the people with guts actually hold it down. [Outro] [Beat fades] Sterile. That's what you are. No growth. No life. Just rules. Checkmate.