Reflection (aryeh diss)

Pass few days I’ve been looking my work

Asking myself did this man do his research?

Did a doctor feed you herbs that infected you

To stoop so low to think I’m somehow less than you

Cuz I’m seeing false hope in the bars you’ve wrote

Coping with the moment you were cut cold

All this filler lyrics come across as writing faster

But people examine it, nothing comes across as master

It’s plaster on a wall, forgotten and dried

That’s why after your first diss to me and tape, your other work barely survived

Its fascinating to see before my very eyes

To see a man so institutionalized in his mind

By a guy named Kalligraphy who just commits himself to rhymes

And ARYEH makes it easy to vomit all over on what he writes

But at night when he tucks himself in really tight

He knows he overworked and nothing came airtight

I mean not a bar that I can remember from your diss called-?

I can’t even remember what those messes were called

But if you need some refreshing I think it didn’t deserve an applause

It was ‘freshing to see ARYEH spiral and fall

A bar after one with no sense that I can recall

Just keep behind the bars as I lock you in cell

Incarcerated for abusing yourself and tryna look to prevail

Now you’re in with Hopsins and NF at the corny jail

Just shut up and write entendres that we can’t tell

That’s what I do and most you fools can’t think through

I’m jumping through loopholes and stepping over crews

Knocking out: (insert who) names hard to remember

Not a man from your pews will make it to September

And if they do it’s cuz they’re on machines to monitor

Their heart and everyday their seeing thermometers

To see how hot they are but the results show low

Your own cells see us grow as you lay down slow

Entering the gates of hell locked from the love below

An absence of actually appeasing the appetite

You’re a sodomite caught in the teasing light

With ebonites from a weaker flight to see a fight

Between me and you but the money they spent isn’t worth

Just for a first round KO, the fans leave the show

Knowing I was acting all along while you played your hardest bro

Come on, you ain’t even seen half the show

One day you’ll see the beast emerge and reap what you sow

Feasting on your own, eating your own skin

Begging for change or features to speak in

Cuz these men you peeing with and seeing this

And ARYEH you got bars but it’s every solar eclipse

They say 2 legends can coexist

But I see myself and you and realize that statement is shit

And ARYEH won’t even read this section

But if he does I need to teach him a lesson

Father to son, I guess I’m regressing

But back to the testing, ARYEH who you questioning

Asking yourself is another diss affecting

Or is it just another salad missing it’s dressing

Plain and simple, easy to cut through like meshing

Your pain is laying on your brain like “hold that thought”

Control your art and stop thinking you got the shot

And I hope you understand what I’m about to say

That not every diss needs a response so hearsay

Hypothesis: you’ll respond within in a day

Another mediocre message to the fans you’ve let astray

Into thinking you're great but you’re recycled ashtray

And if you don’t, just know that I’m still in control

I don’t need a sample of a line to make holes

No need for a beat, acapella sniffs your nose

This game is for the greats, the true ones remains

Popularity is just how much you wanna remain

Not caring what they say and staying truth to your name

Is more respectable in the eyes of the poets and flames

Polarizing your soul is gonna get you in some slop

So the ladder you see bringing you to the top

Is the first floor, I’m above the world and the cots

Above the clouds and the your thoughts

Above the stars and your thots

Above the bed that I rock, the graves I’ve made

Above the clouds that make rain

Above the gangs that think they’re stars

I ain’t even receive a scar

So leave it at this or will you continue war

To prove my point that your thirsty for more bars

But you got no liquor left in the stores

So you selling water to customers then walk out the door

I’m selling TVs to screens and selling grounds to floors

Just happens when your a hustler not fiddling with chores

Not scribbling words that lack meaning anymore

You’re where I was mentally when I was four

So look at the source, I'm the king of the fourth

The third and second, reigning from the 1st

You’re still just watching me ball, Glenn Cosner

And I’m looking at my notes, you’re not on the roster

Not on a radar, not lyricist who respects you

And if they do, screw them too, their bastards like me

Cuz ain’t nobody gonna son me unless it’s Bun B