Yo…
Turn my mic up.
This one’s for that loudmouth clown, Rakai.
Let’s f***in’ go.
Rakai talk tough, but he soft like a feather,
Actin’ big online, but in real life? Never.
You a fake-ass flexer, broke with no cheddar,
Tryna play wolf, but you fold under pressure.
Yo, Rakai, you a punk with no pride,
Talk behind backs, but you run and hide.
Tryna spit bars? Man, don’t even try—
Your rhymes so dry, they make deserts cry.
Look at your fits — that drip is a joke,
You dress like your closet got robbed by a goat.
You the type to get slapped and still say “sorry,”
More weak than a diet plate served at a party.
F*** Rakai, yeah, that b**** got no spine,
Talk big sh*t, but he freeze every time.
Claim he a king, but he ain’t got a throne,
Say his name in the street — they like “Leave him alone.”
F*** Rakai, weak dude, no clout,
Mouth run wild but he scared of a shout.
Every bar I spit put a dent in your pride,
So next time you talk, better swallow that lie.
You move like a snake but hiss like a mouse,
Your girl hit me up when you left the house.
No cap — you a walking L in disguise,
If failure was a sport, you'd be MVP-wise.
Your crew? All fake, just yes-men and clones,
You lead 'em to nothin’ like Google with no phones.
You brag like you ballin’, but we know the math,
You rent your drip and lie about your path.
Bet you practice in the mirror tryna look all mean,
But cry when you lose in a video game scene.
You ain't street, you ain't deep, you ain't even a threat,
You just a keyboard warrior drenched in regret.
F*** Rakai, yeah, that b**** got no spine,
Talk big sh*t, but he freeze every time.
Claim he a king, but he ain’t got a throne,
Say his name in the street — they like “Leave him alone.”
F*** Rakai, weak dude, no clout,
Mouth run wild but he scared of a shout.
Every bar I spit put a dent in your pride,
So next time you talk, better swallow that lie.
You wanted smoke? I brought the whole fire,
Burn your name, your brand, your fake-ass empire.
Try to clap back? You ain't built for this,
You a clown in the ring — I don't miss.
Rakai, next time you run your mouth — remember this.
You just got cooked.
Lyrically murdered.
Now sit the f*** down.