(Street version – no club lights, just red and blue in the rearview, trunk rattlin’ blocks away)
**Intro** (masked-up voice, ski on, AR drum in the background)
Yeah… pull up slow on her block, windows half
This that “Salt Girl Fell Off” murder music
Free my dawgs, fuck the algorithm
Let’s work.
**Hook** (gritty, half-sung, half-spat)
Salt girl fell off, left her crown in the dirt
Whole hood seen the paperwork, bitch you a clerk
All that AI spam, them bot-ass verses you drop
Sound like a robot throwin’ up on a cracked laptop
Touch grass? Nah, touch curb, get stomped in the street
It’s my app, my block, my pack; bow down to the heat
Run up a check on her grave, that’s a million in peace
Salt season over, pussy; rest in grease
**Verse 1** (pure street talk, no filter)
I caught her slippin’ outside the Boost Mobile store
Face lookin’ like Wish shipped it and ain’t ship no more
Belly pokin’ through the Fashion Nova, zipper cryin’ for help
Whole fit screamin’ “I financed this on Afterpay myself”
She was spammin’ in the comments, I was loadin’ up the Drac’
Every post a cry for help, every like a fake
Heard her new song in the trap; everybody hit skip
Sound like Alexa gettin’ choked with a USB-C tip
I put a bounty on her clout, dead or alive
Ten bands if you bring me the hard drive where her real face hide
She a opp in a wig, whole timeline federal
I’m the new plug for the viral, she the old cracked bezel
**Hook**
**Verse 2** (even darker, ski mask voice deeper)
Pull up masked up, black tee say “She Fell Off” in blood drip
Your streams so low they need life support and a blood drip
You was payin’ for bots, I was payin’ for the lawyer
Now the judge threw the book, said your career need a coroner
Talkin’ tough on live till the Wi-Fi cut
Now she cryin’ in the Kia, mascara runnin’ like a slut
Heard your baby daddy left when the views went ghost
Took the PS5 and the ring light, left you roast
I’m in the trap cookin’ real, you in the kitchen with ChatGPT
Your bars taste like plastic, mine hit like fentanyl in the street
Whole gang screamin’ “fuck her page,” that’s on the set
Turn her profile pic to a memorial, that’s a threat
**Final Hook** (slowed + screwed, almost whispered)
Salt girl fell off… left her ass in the past
Fake as fuck… whole image made of glass
It’s my app, my block, my pack, my word
Bow down or get put in the dirt; you heard.
(Beat cuts cold. One gunshot sound. Crickets.)
[No hook after that. Just tires screechin’ out.
This ain’t for the club no more; this for the trenches.
Play it once and delete the evidence.]
SLBandit
