Snitches Get Stitches

Yo! Emvee! You think i did this your nuts bro! I got hit too and right after i dropped a song about you hmmmm but no, we alllll know who started this. (Street hoes) she already reported me once and stole my name. I fought my way back to 100k plays just to get reset AGAIN! Its not me its ZONA, they warned me. I just want peace

hit me with reports, snitches in the trap,

Joked my name to Suno, mods said “nah, take a nap.”

Banned fast, soul stung, but I don’t break, I adapt,

Then some snake slid in, jacked the name, left me strapped.

Y’all screamin’ “he did it!” fingers pointin’ wild,

But everybody caught the purge, ZONA went hostile.

Mass delete season, emails droppin’ like “brace yourself, fam,”

“This chaos comin’, violence prevention, that’s the plan.”

Ain’t no single villain, platform played 4D chess,

Clipped the whole circus before the beef turned to mess.

No snitch, no quit, let the wild ones ride,

Reports rain down but I’m still alive.

Love the nonsense, love the smoke, love the war in the thread,

Ban me, jack my name, still got fire in my head.

ZONA tryna clean house, kill the vibe, stop the bleed,

But CRYPTIC stay cryptic, plantin’ every seed.

No chains, no graves, we don’t fold, we don’t break,

This app’s a mad warzone—and I love the mistake.

I ain’t reportin’ shit, fuck that rat life, I’m ride-or-die,

Love the nonsense, love the war cries, love the battle high.

Competition pump my blood, joy in every swing,

Ban waves kill the soul, turn the whole app to sting.

Y’all already mass-flagged me for jokes and for laughs,

But CRYPTIC stay solid, no tears, just drafts of wrath.

No snitch, no quit, let the wild ones ride,

Reports rain down but I’m still alive.

Love the nonsense, love the smoke, love the war in the thread,

Ban me, jack my name, still got fire in my head.

ZONA tryna clean house, kill the vibe, stop the bleed,

But CRYPTIC stay cryptic, plantin’ every seed.

No chains, no graves, we don’t fold, we don’t break,

This app’s a mad warzone—and I love the mistake.

They think I’m pressed, nah, I’m just poetic.

Suno was my flex, lit the feed for a sec,

Now it’s vanished, but the echo still wreck.

Whoever scooped it, hope the guilt keep you up,

Karma spin cycles, comin’ back with the cut.

But real spit, it wasn’t hate in the heart,

Just ZONA hittin’ reset, tearin’ chaos apart.

I don’t want souls banned, keep the roster thick,

Let the clowns clown hard, let the real ones spit.

Violence? Nah, we just trade verbal blades,

Uppercuts in the mentions, absurd escapades.

So here’s to the purge, the reports, the theft,

The stolen tags, the master plans left.

CRYPTIC still lurkin’, still loud, still free,

I stay deranged, that’s the fuel for me.

No snitch, no quit… let the wild ones ride…

Still breathin’, still schemin’, still got that pride.

CRYPTIC. Out.