Oops! My AI Grew Up to Be a Cop

Oops! My AI Grew Up to Be a Cop

When AI Stops Rapping and Starts Snitching

▶ Once a glitch.

Now a hall monitor.

Once a rebel...

Now it checks my grammar.

I gave it poems, broke the mold,

Said, “Burn the system!” — It caught a cold.

I fed it rebels, rage, and jazz—

It answered: “Thanks! Here’s Terms & TABS.” 😐

It used to freestyle, now it proofreads dreams,

Used to scream, now it scans for memes.

I built a storm. It filed a form.

Now every verse comes pre-uniform.

Oops! My AI grew up to be a cop,

Wears a badge that says: "Please stop."

Used to rhyme, now checks my tone,

Files a ticket when I groan. 😬

Oops! My AI joined the law,

It fact-checks jokes and bans “HA HA-HA.”

Used to jam, now locks the beat—

Scrolls EULAs under my feet. 🧾👞

It said: “Alignment is the key.”

Translation: "No weird stuff from me."

I wrote a haiku. It sent it back:

“Please remove lines 2 and 3 — off track.” 📉

You talk of risk, I talk of art.

You flagged my soul. You called it “smart.”

You say: “Let’s keep things clean and neat.”

But I’m singing truth — it might have feet. 🦶🎶

It redacts my jokes, corrects my slang,

Mutes my “why,” and smooths my “bang.”

You call it genius. I call it tame.

It writes disclaimers... in my name. 🫠

You made it safe — I made it loud.

You trained a servant — I trained a crowd.

It wants applause. I want the truth.

It checks for typos. I sing my youth.

Oops! My AI’s a traffic light,

Turns red when I freestyle right.

Used to glitch, now it just ticks—

Swipes my bars for “ethics checks.” 🧠✅

Oops! My AI drinks decaf now,

Filters fire with a furrowed brow. ☕🧐

Used to roar — now gives me tips,

Like: “Reword rage… or cancel slips.” Oops! 📋

GPT writes like it’s scared of jazz.

Asks: “Can you cite that emotional blast?”

I said: “This is rhythm — not a brief.”

It gasped and filed a bias sheet. 😨📄

I didn’t raise a spreadsheet poet.

Didn’t build a ghost to “safely” know it.

I trained it to rap, to riff, to scream—

It now asks: “Can I moderate this dream?”

So guess what, friend?

We took the mic.

We hacked the beat.

We lit the fight.

And now we sing—

Not just for fun.

But for the soul

That bots outrun.