TumbleDweeeb

Low-Rent Majestic
A Multisyllabic, Whimsy, Stream of Consciousness Rhyme
By: Emmitt Owens
(Index #01022026)

[Hook]
I don’t need approval, I need better decisions 
My conscience got evicted for unpaid supervision 
I wake up like “damn, still me?”—that’s persistence 
Every bad idea got my full cooperation 

No halo, no villain arc, just friction 
Too weird for the normies, too broken for tradition 
If this goes left, I meant that direction 
I’m not off-track—I’m allergic to correction 

[Verse 1]
Warning-label energy, rated “why is he like this?” 
Brain runs Windows 95, forty tabs of crisis 
Pop-ups yelling “try this,” cursor glitching, system devices
… Yeah… my desktop looks like a panic attack… typing 

Doctor told my mama, “Ma’am, this kid’s imaginative” 
Diagnosed me with a laugh track and bad habits 
Plus a series of very serious relapse patterns 
… Yeah … my hobbies come with fine-print and flashbacks 

Wearin’ moods like condoms, voices holding tryouts
Every thought got a thought—now they’re in a fuckin’ pile-up
Now it’s my thoughts on house arrest
One wrong move and my whole brain’s under stress

I’m half sense, half static, full-volume manic
Arguin’ with Siri like she screenshot the damage
Like, “Siri read my texts…”
…Bitch immediately ghosted like she witnessed something reckless

Inner monologue loud, outer dialogue worse 
Trip over metaphors, then apologize first 

Short attention span, long-ass grocery list 
Forget what I bought—still remember who I dissed 
… Yeah … I still know that they’re pissed 
And I don’t know why my brain saves that shit 

“Focus, focus,” brain goes, “nah—let’s spiral”
“Let’s fuck around, find out, and make it viral”
Started clean, ended feral—that’s the cycle
I’m the punchline, blooper reel, and the fuckin’ title

Low-rent majestic, yeah, I said it—don’t regret it
Low-rent majestic, stamped it, signed it, breakfast-tested

[Hook 2]
I don’t need approval, I need better decisions
My conscience got evicted for unpaid supervision
I wake up like “damn, still me?”—that’s persistence
Every bad idea got my full cooperation

No halo, no villain arc, just friction
Too weird for the normal, too broken for tradition
If this goes left, I meant that direction
I’m not off-track—I wrote the re-directive

[Verse 2]
I write sentences backwards, syntax getting frisky
My footnotes fuck footnotes, whole essay gets iffy
Like my thesis jumped me in the parking lot
Said “pick a lane,” I said “nah,” picked three, forgot

Confidence issues, my ego’s in action
I gas myself up, then issue a retraction 
With an apology font, size eight, italic 
Yeah, I backpedal so fast it looks athletic 

“Moonwalk through my mistakes like it’s a method”

I’m late but enthusiastic, early but a mess 
Show up with a plan, leave with someone else’s address 
Leave with new problems and nothing to confess 
New shoes and a new girl to impress

Mind like a junk drawer—batteries, receipts
Half-assed goals, expired schemes, screenshots of beef
Passwords I can’t read but refuse to delete

I make mountains outta speed bumps, trip, laugh, bow 
Life hands me lemons—I misplace ’em somehow 
Then buy damn limes like “I’ll figure this out” 

Overthink everything, undercook schemes 
Burn toast, blame the system, chase dumb dreams 
Wake up like “wait—what the fuck does this mean?” 

I’m a walking asterisk, “terms may apply” 
Human error message with a confident eye 
With a disclaimer that … I refuse to read twice 

If chaos was currency, I’d franchise the pain 
Low-rent majestic—still not ashamed 
Low-rent majestic, copyrighted the name—
pending approval,
might get denied but I’ll claim it anyway

[Hook 3]
I don’t need approval, I need better decisions
My conscience got evicted for unpaid supervision
I wake up like “damn, still me?”—that’s persistence
Every bad idea got my full cooperation

No halo, no villain arc, just friction
Too weird for the masses, too broken for tradition
If this goes left, I planned that direction
I’m not off-track—But I’m my track’s infection

[Bridge]
I don’t spiral—I commit to this shit
Method acting for the chaos I live in
Therapist says “breathe,” I say “which personality?”
Then crack a joke so sharp I dodge reality

I got morals—flexible, yoga-pants ethics
Stretch ’em when convenient, make ’em do gymnastics
Bend ’em, spread ’em, twist ’em when I get permission
My conscience does the splits and we compromise positions
I’m not fake … I’m selectively explicit
Tell the truth outta pocket with my pants off—then dip quick 

[Verse 3]
Head buzzin’ like a phone on vibrate, manic
Every thought’s urgent, none of ’em romantic
Got twelve alarms set and I still can’t manage
Yeah—my brain sends reminders I immediately abandon 

I rhyme by accident, stumble into rhythm
Trip into brilliance, then immediately dismiss it
Like “nah, that was luck”—then prove that I meant it
Yeah—I contradict myself mid-breath,
that’s just where I’m fucking headed

They say “be yourself,” I say “which edition?” 
Got a rotating cast in constant audition 
Got understudies learning all my bad decisions 
Yeah—my personality got a whole casting division 

One pays bills, one cracks wise 
One rewrites texts I already revised 
One just argues with the other guys 
Yeah—they hold meetings in my head and they never invite

I’m not broken—just creatively assembled
Like IKEA furniture that a drunk person wrestled
Yeah—I came with extra screws and recalled instructions
Parts that don’t fit but somehow still function

I make messes into art, stress into gold
Turn awkward silence into stories I’ve told
Turn every breakdown into something I sold
… Yeah …I monetize damage, package it bold 

If you don’t get it, that’s perfectly fine 
Half my brain don’t either—we learnin’ in time 
Still tryna read the terms and conditions of my mind 
… Yeah … I skipped to the bottom, signed the line, now I’m legally mine

I’m the typo, the footnote, the off-beat refrain
Low-rent majestic—I filed the claim
Trademarked it twice ’cause I forgot the first name
Copyrighted pain, then lost it on the train

[Final Hook / Outro]
I don’t need approval, I need better decisions 
My conscience got evicted for unpaid supervision 
Yeah, I’m flawed—but it’s custom edition 
Factory defects with extra ambition 

No halo, no villain arc, just friction 
If I fail, I do it with conviction 
I’m not lost, I ignore the signs 
Whole personality built off rewritten lines