Steel & Silk

Yeah…

Turn the motherfuckin’ lights off.

Samurai ain’t just cutting throats tonight—

I’m takin’ souls, crushing egos, ripping the weak in half.

Every snitch, gossip fiend, fake-ass PSS, crybaby, coward—

Step forward.

Welcome… to the Blackout.

⸻

Why every weak motherfucker got my name in they mouth?

Shut that shit tight before I sew it shut, no doubt.

Parasites leechin’ my grind ‘cause you ain’t got one,

Talk big but fold quick—bitch, your whole spine undone.

Instigator PSS?

Man, fuck that clown—

Fake leader, fake busy, king of a cardboard crown.

Every shift he tanks the numbers, then cries like a child,

Whole warehouse knows he useless and his ego’s gone wild.

You hide in the office scrollin’ like a bored-ass bum,

Real work bleedin’ out while you don’t do a crumb.

But when Samurai walk in?

Your heartbeat glitch,

Suddenly you “working”—fake-ass loyalty switch.

You watch my hours ‘cause your life’s empty as fuck,

Judging my grind while you sit there stuck.

Obsessed with my moves like a jealous bitch,

Talk loud in the dark, in person you don’t twitch.

⸻

Why the fuck you worried about me?

Mind your lane, pussy—

Before Samurai drag your whole weak clique publicly.

All bark, no bite, no guts, no grit—

This BLACKOUT season, I’m slicing throats quick.

Cry all shift, whine all shift—

Fuck your feelings and your bullshit list.

Work ain’t in your blood, but lying sure is—

Welcome to Jugular Season… where excuses get dismissed.

⸻

Every shift you clock in with bullshit pre-made,

Same lies, same whining, same lazy-ass charade.

Two hours on one pallet?

Bitch, that’s pathetic—

Toddlers move faster—your whole drive synthetic.

Instigator stalkin’ drama like a sewer-fed rat,

Sniffin’ for dirt ‘cause real work breaks his back.

Fake alpha, fake savior, fake backbone of the crew—

Only thing real is the bitch-ass shit you do.

Y’all watch Samurai like fans but act like foes,

But you ain’t built for blades or blackout flows.

I’m the structure that keeps the damn shift alive—

You the reason managers pray someone survives.

I fix your mistakes in silence, no credit, no shine,

But tonight?

I’m draggin’ every failure of yours into the line.

I’m pressure, I’m fire, I’m the storm you can’t dodge—

Talk slick again and I’ll end your whole façade.

⸻

Dark bass rumblin’, whole floor trembling—

Samurai swing steel, every coward start mumblin’.

This ain’t a track—this is lyrical execution,

A diss so cold it feels like retribution.

⸻

Why the fuck you worried about me?

Mind your lane, pussy—

Before Samurai drag your whole weak crew publicly.

All bark, no bite, no guts, no grit—

This BLACKOUT season, I’m slicing throats quick.

⸻

Keep my name off your bitch-made tongues.

Keep my grind out your jealous-ass lungs.

Next clown to slip?

I’ll write a trilogy on your downfall.

Blackout complete.

Shift restored.

Samurai out.