[Verse]

Million-dollar smiles, truth hiding in disguise,

They say act now, not tomorrow, opportunity flies.

Pat your back, ease your doubt,

“Fear is natural,” happens to everyone starting out.

Glitz, glam, scam — somehow it all feels good to me,

They sell a dream of fortune like they’re handing you the key.

But the only door it opens is the one that empties you, not me.

(Chorus — HOOK)

The pitch, the promise, the professionalism—

It’s all a con job, a smoke screen for the masses.

Fool me, fool you, a hurt by design—

They win, we lose, every damn time.

No truth in the talk, no truth in the ads,

Just a rigged little play dressed up in Gucci rags.

Yeah, the pitch, the promise, the professionalism—

It’s all a con job… and I bought every line.

(Verse 2)

They point to all the “winners,” trophies you can’t trace,

Smiling faces, but you never see the chaos in that place.

I heard it from a friend who heard it from a friend

That these industry connections were legit from end to end.

They said they knew producers who could make my song a hit,

A&R guys “in their pocket,” labels lined up for the pitch.

Every name they dropped was just another borrowed name,

They play on my ego, they play on my pride,

They prey on the promise that I hide inside.

(Chorus — HOOK)

The pitch, the promise, the professionalism—

It’s all a con job, a smoke screen for the masses.

Fool me, fool you, a hurt by design—

They win, we lose, every damn time.

No truth in the talk, no truth in the ads,

Just a rigged little play dressed up in Gucci rags.

Yeah, the pitch, the promise, the professionalism—

It’s all a con job… and I bought every line.

(Bridge — Punchy, Spoken-Sung)

I trusted the smile, I trusted the plan,

I thought I knew the man.

But trust is the currency they love the most—

They drink to your faith and ghost.

(Final Chorus — Bigger, Driving)

The pitch, the promise, the professionalism—

It’s all a con job, the great American circus.

Fool me, fool you, a hurt by design—

They write the rules, we pay the fines.

No truth in the hype, no truth in the scheme,

Just a nightmare sold as the American dream.

Yeah, the pitch, the promise, the professionalism—

It’s all a con job…

And hell, they read me just fine.They said it was business, they said it was fair.

But business with no conscience is just theft with a better haircut.

I learned too late—

It’s all a con job.