[Intro]
Yeah…
Two rats in the corner thinkin’ loud equals power.
It don’t.
[Verse 1]
Two clowns in the corner talkin’ reckless as shit,
Stick Boy all mouth, but don’t stand on shit.
Fat Fuck wheezin’, think schemin’ is skill,
Built like an excuse with an ego to kill.
Static in they voices, but static don’t move,
I progress in real time while they stuck on “improve.”
I shine in the open, solar-charged glow,
They rot in the shade with that bitter-ass tone.
Eyes on my plate while they hands stay bare,
Countin’ my meals like it’s food over there.
Hate the chef ‘cause I cook from scratch,
They microwave bullshit, then wonder why it trash.
[Chorus]
Sideline bitches never play in the game,
Throw shade all day, I dance in the flame.
Stick Boy chirpin’, Fat Fuck stay lame,
I’m headline energy, y’all background shame.
Noise in my ear, I don’t flinch, I don’t pause,
Pink Slip Sniper—sharp tongue, no flaws.
[Verse 2]
Stick Boy gossip like a hoe with no spine,
Fat Fuck flex fiction, broke all the time.
Internet tough, pockets skinny and sad,
I stack real wins—yeah, that burns ‘em bad.
They pray on my fall like it’s church on a Sunday,
I elevate calmly, make haters run dry.
Jet fuel veins, y’all fumes in a jar,
I move like a plan, they watch from afar.
High-speed pressure, no lag, no delay,
They mash on the gas but still don’t go nowhere.
I’m filet mignon heat, blade cut clean,
They drive-thru grease with expired dreams.
[Bridge]
Say my name again—say it slow,
Every word free promo, thanks for the glow.
Unpaid assistants, bitter as hell,
I’m the algorithm—you spam that fell.
I lap you in slides, no sweat, no chase,
Y’all drown in my shadow just tryin’ to place.
[Verse 3]
Stick Boy weird, Fat Fuck stay mad,
Built whole identities on hate they had.
Watchin’ my moves like it pays they rent,
While I mind my business and ascend.
You ain’t competition, you commentary noise,
Background chatter for insecure boys.
If talent was currency, you’d be in debt,
I cash every bar with interest collected.
[Outro]
I don’t argue, don’t bark, don’t beg,
I let growth embarrass you step by step.
Pink Slip Sniper—precision when I aim,
I don’t miss wide,
I connect and remain.
MIG1274
