R&Bitch ( Diddy Diss )
• Written by CannonBlast2
Yo, Diddy, more like Ditto, clone in a tux,
Built an empire off Big, but you still suckin’ luck—
Actin’ mogul, but moguls don’t dance in they suits
You moonwalk on graves while the legends get mute
You bought votes, bought songs, bought time in the light
But can’t buy respect when your name ain't writ right.
You dropped “Making the Band,” but forgot how to make ‘em—
Signed dreams to death row, with contracts that break ‘em
Had B.I.G. as your lifeline, now you just gasping,
You Bad Boy forever? Nah, just bad at lastin'
I spit truth, no Ciroc on My table—straight ether,
You sell bottles, I bottle rage, then unleash the reaper.
Dancin’ in the mirror, tryna channel MJ,
But even the glove said, “That boy moves gay.”
(No hate—just facts from the rhythm you fake,
You moonwalk, I stomp—crack the earth with a quake.)
Talkin’ “Can’t stop, won’t stop,” what a cheap chant,
Even your ad-libs sound like a washed-up aunt.
You take credit like a leech in designer apparel,
But couldn’t write a 16 if your mansion was in peril.
I’m a riddle in a hoodie, bars colder than your soul,
Your legacy’s a remix that forgot the drumroll.
You rich, but empty—your heart’s like your verses: hollow,
No wonder every protégé outgrew you and followed.
Mase ran to God, Loon ran too,
Shyne did time, now he won’t even say “salute.”
You pushin’ R&B now? Like that’s gon’ hide the truth—
But the devil wears Prada, and we seein’ the proof.
The industry owes you nothin', stop chasin’ nostalgia,
You a ghost in the boardroom—hauntin’ your own saga.
I’m the voice of the ones you forgot in the climb,
A new era, no glitter—just bars and a spine.
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About the Artist
CannonBlast2
Member since June 25 2024