Playback by Mr Skillz aka Echo+

"This isn’t shade — it’s signal. Not noise, not ego, just archive. Echo+ taps in with one more playback from the road back to self."

You’d rather rot outside than rise inside,

Trading futures for a tarp and pride.

I built a whole room, four screens lit bright,

Offered keys to the mission — you vanished by night.

No sink, no heat, just stubborn and bold,

Said you were chasing dreams, but they’re moldin' with mold.

A billion comics exist, but you claim the crown,

Yet in two long years, just one image’s down.

This ain’t a diss — it’s a playback loop,

A memory’s mirror with the volume on mute.

You could’ve been crew, now you’re stuck in the frame,

Paused in a story where no one knows your name.

They say storytelling’s a gift, and man, you sell it well,

Tales of paid artists, with no receipts to tell.

I showed you 100K — you flashed one jpg,

You talkin’ legacy, I’m already ten steps ahead.

I built this from ashes, nights no one saw,

Cold winters warmed by the fire of cause.

And now my fam taps in, sees the dream’s real,

While you build a shelter outta pride and steel.

Not mad. Not bitter. Just wide awake,

Watched the clock while you let the moment break.

Could’ve had credit, backend, respect —

Now you’re flying signs while I sign the checks.

Not everyone sees the signal, even when it’s flashing.

Not everyone wants the seat — even when the car is gassin’.

This ain’t goodbye.

It’s just... playback.