Intro
Yo, I hear the whispers, I see the fake pride,
Talkin’ tough online, but you run and hide.
This the callout, the knockout, the verbal eruption,
I’m the one tearing down your whole construction.
Verse 1
Drip certified? Nah, more like counterfeit,
Claim the crown, but your throne ain’t legit.
You rap about wealth like it makes you a boss,
But money don’t cover up the talent you lost.
All that talk about bricks, you ain’t built a thing,
You’re a puppet in the game, who’s pulling the string?
Chain swingin’, flexin’ like you earned your spot,
But your bars fall flat, man, they’re lukewarm, not hot.
Hook
Certified? Nah, you certified fraud,
Your tracks all cap, no one’s giving you applause.
Talk about the streets, but you’re soft in the zone,
This mic’s my castle, get off my throne.
Verse 2
Your feature list long, but the talent ain’t there,
You hop on a track just to ride on a chair.
Name-dropping legends like that earns you rank,
But you’re out here overdrafting on your clout bank.
Talkin’ ‘bout the grind, but you stay in reverse,
Every album you drop just makes it worse.
I’m the storm you avoid, the pressure you fear,
You a halfway artist, I’m the whole career.
Bridge
Look, I don’t need no props or no chains to flaunt,
Your diamonds can’t shine when your flow’s so gaunt.
Keep pushing that weight? You couldn’t even lift,
You’re just a placeholder, waiting to be dismissed.
Verse 3
I don’t need no features; I stand alone,
You need a hype crew just to hold your tone.
My lyrics hit deep, leave scars on the beat,
While you’re out here mumblin’, afraid to compete.
MoneyBagg or Boston, y’all both sound the same,
Swap names on a track, who’s really to blame?
You blend in the crowd while I carve out lanes,
My pen sharp enough to expose your stains.
Outro
This ain’t just a diss; this a lesson to learn,
Respect the craft, or you’re bound to burn.
Step up your game, or step out the frame,
Your time’s running out in this rap hall of shame.
