CHALLENGER'S RAP

• //Verse 1
• Look, I don’t wanna overlook the talent of X
• But the owner should tell you about the havoc steps,
• I ain’t tryin’ to give a cold shoulder but have a sense
• Cryin’ for views isn’t that wise, gettin’ older and it’s just sets,
• Of buying, they don’t improve on rhyming just wants flex,
• All shining, recruits y’all to behoove his popularity
• And honestly, it's a modern-day disparity,
• Tradin' your artistic integrity for charity,
• We lost a lot of people along the way, man, it's a tragedy,
• Watchin' the culture unravel and slip away gradually,
• I'm gettin' tired of the tears on niggas runnin' dry
• Lookin' up at the sky, askin' the concrete why
• Every time a brother finally steps into his prime
• Some vulture comes around tryin' to cut short his time
• I just wanna dampen them again and bring back the time,
• Inject some truth into souls of the youth and inspire,
• Give some shit that real niggas wanna show and gain,
• Instead of all this watered-down clout ot mask the pain
• But a group always out here cuttin' niggas time,
• Actin' like they own the clock and plottin' on mine
• Like what is the purpose of rappin' if we ain't makin' moves?
• Just a bunch of puppets in some designer shoes,
• What is the purpose of insertin' dominance in your verse
• When the message you spreadin' is a generational curse?
• You want a site but can't carry everyone's weight,
• You post a quick four bars online and think that you great
• But this a real Rap-Pad, you just typin' out the text,
• Gettin' gassed by a syllable counter on what's comin' next,
• They feed you to the wolves once you stop bringin' revenue,
• Then find another clone to go and replace you on the avenue,
• It's sthe same cycle spinnin', nothing ever changes in the mix,
• Look at what happened to Biggie, Pac, and X..
• //Beatdrop
• //Verse 2
• Yeah, let's piggyback right on what I said about this RapPad landscape,
• It's a digital graveyard where the track-crafters can't escape,
• The current state of this beef toxicity made us dead, now buried, and long gone,
• But you revive it like a toxic city built on a con,
• And look, I don't give a fuck if a nigga below you or sittin' above,
• You still read every syllable, still respond, pretendin' it's love hate,
• But let's get brutal for a second, let's dissect your pathology,
• I looked at your track record, and it demands an apology,
• You only ever punchin' down, respondin' to the low-tier names
• Safe bets to secure a win and validate your little internet games
• But you never step up to the high niggas matchin' your weight,
• When the heavyweights text, you leave 'em hangin' at the gate
• You only responded to the CDs cause he forced you to move,
• Backed you up against a wall with everything to lose
• But let's look at everyone else navigatin' this virtual map of hell
• Before we call it a wrap on the psychology of rap,
• We all respond off of pettiness, it's a bitter reflex,
• Chasin' validation via paragraph text,
• It's never jealousy, stop lyin', that's a juvenile view(Clink)
• It's pure competition lightin' a fuse inside of the queue(Clank)
• We anchor our bars to a pad just to blow up our status,
• Pourin' gasoline on a screen just to see who the baddest
• We all wanna kill each other, no love in the surge,
• We treatin' this whole platform like a localized Purge(BRRT)
• And at this rate, we all gonna end up like Pac and Biggie,
• Leavin' bodies in the streets of this digital city,
• Since the Diddler wanna organize a killin' assassination,
• Behind-the-scenes politics dividin' the nation,
• And I ain't sayin' you the Diddler, Genx, don't get it twisted,
• I'm sayin' RapPad gathers evidence that can't be reisted,
• The data leaves paper trails like a real industry plot,
• Just like Eminem trollin' DIddy, connectin' every single dot,
• Twenty years of subliminals before the public could see,
• And yet you get mad about a thread and blame it on me
• I'm gettin' tired of that, the same redundant routine,
• Honestly, maybe we just need to cancel this whole scene,
• It's dead and gone at this point, but who holds the key?
• ... But you know what the problem is? Maybe the problem is me,
• //Outro
• Yeah... (sigh)
• I don't even know why I let myself get dragged back into this space, man.
• It's like... we spend so much time buildin' these digital fortresses, tryin' to prove we the baddest, tryin' to prove out pens are sharper than the next man's.
• But for what?
• Look around.
• We out here treatin' a screen like a war zone.
• Actin' like we ready to purge each other overy some syllables and text.
• We watched the greatest to ever do it- Pac, Biggie, hell even X, get torn away from the world for real. And here we are, playin' with the same dark energy like it's just a game to keep the site alive.
• Like the toxicity is something to feed on.
• I sat on these thoughts for two years. Two whole years, just watchin' the threads, watchin' the pettiness, Watchin' GenX, watchin' everyone just circle the drain.
• I wanted to blame the owners. I wanted to blame the algorithm.I wanted to blame XF. I wanted to cancel the whole damn site and just walk away clean.
• But I'm still here. I'm still typin'. I'm still respondin'
• So yeah... I guess pointin' fingers doesn't change the mirror.
• You know what the problem is?
• Maybe the problem is me.