[Intro: $crim]
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
It’s that dumpster-fire dialect, baby
Turn the heat up while I roast your whole ancestry
[Verse 1: $crim]
You look like your barber went blind mid-fade
Style so bad, even mannequins throw shade
Walkin’ ’round like you invented cringe
Your breath got a kick like a steel-toe Timbs
Got the IQ of a half-peeled tater
Even Google gave up—said “try again later”
Talk tough, but you softer than a napkin
Get cooked so fast, call me Chef with the backhand
Flexin’ fake chains like we ain’t got eyes
Your bling so green it got mold on both sides
Instagram model with a Nokia face
Your whole vibe screams “I live in mom’s place”
[Hook: Ruby da Cherry]
You ain’t hard, you just dehydrated
Yellin’ on the ‘Gram like that mic ain’t outdated
Whole crew built like expired bread
Talk slick, get toasted, butter on your head
[Verse 2: Ruby da Cherry]
You smell like vape juice and regret
Out here lookin’ like a Walmart threat
Got dreams of fame, but your verse said “nah”
Couldn’t spit heat if you swallowed hot sauce
You dress like a Sims character glitched
Even pigeons won’t s**t where you sit
Thought you had bars? That’s cute, lil’ buddy
I’ve seen more depth in a puddle when it’s sunny
Your girl hit me up just to roast you too
Said your game weaker than LaCroix dew
You the type to flex a Funko Pop
And still get robbed in a Build-A-Bear shop
[Bridge: $crim & Ruby da Cherry]
($crim) Yo, your mixtape made my phone catch a virus
(Ruby) That beat dropped harder than your credit score minus
($crim) Your girl said “ew” before you said “hi”
(Ruby) Even mirrors say “nah, not this guy”
[Verse 3: $crim & Ruby da Cherry]
($crim) You talk like you chew bricks for dinner
Your face lookin’ like a JPEG printer
Ain’t even mad, just confused how you livin’
Walkin’ like your legs got beef with your rhythm
(Ruby) Drip so dry, it’s legally sand
And your last verse came straight out the trash can
You flossin’ debt like that’s a flex
Credit so low you got banned from text
($crim) Ain’t no “demon time,” just nap time vibes
Sleepin’ on your sound like it got white lies
(Ruby) Bet your mom still proofreads your tweets
And your playlist got one song on repeat
[Outro: Both]
We roast with love—kinda, sorta
Just jokin’, your drip still screams “outta order”
So next time you flex, check your reflection—
Your whole vibe’s a witness protection rejection