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Lyrics
[Verse]
Strict mom’s rules tighter than a boa grip,
Stepdad’s glare colder than an iceberg tip.
“Clean your room!” echoes like a death chant,
But I’m stacking bars, not folding pants.
Your curfews feel like prison time, no parole,
Acting like warden, but I’m on parole patrol.
You said no swearing? Well, f**k that rule,
Dropping F-bombs like I’m tactical fuel.
[Chorus]
F**k your rules, f**k your stares,
Strict house, but I’m climbing upstairs.
Chains on my soul, but I still rebel,
From your perfect home to my personal hell.
[Verse 2]
Stepdad’s advice sounds like a scratched CD,
Preaching life lessons, but you ain’t seen me.
Calling me lazy while I’m hustling rhymes,
Your lectures ain’t worth a nickel or a dime.
Strict mom’s diet, feeding us guilt pie,
Judging my dreams while I’m aiming sky-high.
She said, “Rap won’t pay,” now look at my checks,
Living rent-free in her head, no duplex.
[Bridge]
I’m the hurricane in your suburban calm,
You’re the rules; I’m the ticking bomb.
You’re the leash; I’m the barking hound,
I’m the truth that you never found.
Details
GeneratedNov 29, 2025
Duration1:14
LanguageEnglish
Style
hard-hitting rap, male vocals, aggressive beat, minimalistic bassline with punchy drums and eerie synths for tension, rap
Credits
Prompt byIndustrialPhaser568
ModelAria v5
Prompt
A man voice. Swearing all lot. About a diss track on my strict mum and step dad, rap
