I can rap.

I pen flames, then aim at the frame of the game

break down the name like anagrams, yall aint the same.

you claim you a king? then where the fuck is your crown?

im sherlock with the pen, you just watson, sit down.

im picasso with the bars, you still finger paint

your whole flow is acrylic, wash it off, aint shit quaint.

I write in flames, then autograph the ash

flow tighter than a noose, yeah, I snap necks

punchlines hit like a drunk driver, no regard

im on that Not Like Us, yall just Not That Tough

clip full of verbs, I action pack em

call me euphoria, im kendrick-level sick

your girl scream my name like a exorcist

yall reference me, but you aint referenced right

im the blueprint, the curse, the fright night

try to diss? oof, yall delusional

im the ghost, the god, the confusional

 

your bars softer than baby food, im baby-proof

I turn beef to wellington, medium rare

my cadence got gravity, yours got cavities

your best bar? my left bar

im graphic like GTA, your PacMan

last rapper who tried me? rest in piss

this aint a diss… its a public service

yall needed this, now go practice

im reference only, dont mention me

unless you ready to catch this ether peacefully

 

the mic drip sulfuric acid, your flow need aloe vera

your whole career a mummy wrapped in "shoulda been betta"

your bars softer than the knees you beg on for features

your name get mentioned with "who?" like bible lost creatures

 

i torch rental dreams with the heat from my palms

your whole life a sublet, lease up, you gone

your homie death a hashtag you tattooed for clout

your pain just decoration like fake plants in your house

 

your mama ghost haunts your verses like bad rent decisions

your daddy left receipts you still tryna redeem with your raps

your whole team yes-men nodding like bobblehead toys

your existence a caution sign on hiphops backroads

 

your metaphors stolen like cable from projects

your whole style a thrift shop of rappers you studied

your tears just special effects with no oscar attached

your struggle just background noise in a trap beat

 

your cadence stutter like pipes in your section 8

your flow got evicted before the first tenant

your pain performative like strippers at noon

your whole career a food stamp, government proof

 

your name be erased like chalk outlines in rain

your legacy just a piss stain on raps cleanest sheets

your life a blooper reel of bad takes and worse luck

your death be the first time your streams really jump

 

the roaches in your kitchen move with more grace

the rats in your walls got more hits than your page

your whole existence a glitch in the matrix

the universe sighed when it coded your fate in

 

your tears just lubricant for industry dick

your soul just collateral for advance money spent

your pain just seasoning for flavorless raps

your whole life a rough draft god balled up and trashed

 

your name be a footnote on a receipt at Guitar Center

your bars bounce like checks from a broke deadbeat father

your flow got repossessed with your whips and your chains

your whole life a meme that nobody saved

 

your mama tears fuel the ink in my pen

your daddy ghost nod when i body your name

your homie grave flowers wilt when you pass

your whole existence a stain hiphop will blast