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Lyrics
[Verse]
Stacks in the bag, rubber bands on the loot,
Clock ticking fast, gotta move, gotta shoot,
Corner store dealings, the fiends salute,
You claiming king, but your crown don’t compute.
[Chorus]
If you ain’t making money trapping in Jackson, you capping dogg,
Talking big smoke but your hustle’s a fog,
We see through the act, your story’s a log,
No bark, no bite, just another monologue.
[Verse 2]
Dice on the curb, dreams cooked in the pot,
You flexing with the gram, but your pockets forgot,
Truth in the street, that chain’s just a prop,
Real recognize real, and you ain’t in the plot.
[Bridge]
Pressure bust pipes or it make diamonds shine,
But you fold under heat, you ain’t built for the grind,
Talking like a vet, but your game’s confined,
Lost in the sauce, you a mime out of line.
[Chorus]
If you ain’t making money trapping in Jackson you capping dogg,
Talking big smoke but your hustle’s a fog,
We see through the act, your story’s a log,
No bark, no bite, just another monologue.
[Verse 3]
Conger’s politics, moves made in the dark,
Blueprints in the cut, now they calling it art,
You tryna play the role, but you missing the spark,
A clown in the hub city, we can see where you park.
Details
GeneratedJun 24, 2025
Duration4:00
LanguageEnglish
Style
Memphis trap, choir, scratching, heavy beat, experimental, rap, male
Credits
Prompt by
Kevin_Carnett_753
Kevin_Carnett_753ModelAria v4
