Untitled Song

You talk slick but ain’t gonna back it up,

Tryna act tough? I crack your skull like a plastic cup.

You a backup bluff, I’m the wrath that struck,

I spit gems — your whole catalog wack as fuck.

They laugh like it’s a gay guy joke, but the rage I wrote

Got ‘em stiff like a stage dive broke, that’s a pain high quote.

I might blast that clip with a sarcastic grin.

I ain’t no pacifist but I pass a fist,

Swing like karma coming, you asked for this

It’d be stupid of me to think you ain’t through with me.

Usually, I float on loops with fluency,

I speak musically, strike like chords brutally,

Talk unity, but bite styles mutually,

I’m light-years ahead, spittin’ bars celestially.