[Intro — low swagger] Yeah. Bad stats. Big name. Still cleaner than you. [Verse 1 — hard boom bap] Three hundred total, I know what it says, Paper-thin frame, still a spark in the chest. Ninety in Speed, so I move with intent, You can laugh at the sheet till the whole bar gets bent. Light Ball tucked, now the numbers get rude, Double both offenses, whole matchup gets skewed. I don’t need bulk if I hit you first, One clean window and I turn that joke to a hearse. Thunderbolt flash, leave the whole room blind, Volt Tackle reckless, yeah, that’s more my kind. Glass cannon living, no shield, no lie, If you get your turn, then I fucked up the try. Big stats, big frame, big mouth, okay, I make more outta less every damn day. I ain’t saying I’m broken, I ain’t selling no myth, I’m just weak on the chart and still talking my shit. [Hook — flashy] I’m Pikachu, gold trim, black tie, Cute face, sharp grin, little danger in the eyes. You can call me weak, you can call me small, Still better move quick when the red cheeks call. I’m Pikachu, slick little bastard, no shame, Half voltage, half charm, whole lotta name. I don’t gotta be strongest walking in the room, Just fast enough to make somebody stronger go boom. [Verse 2 — cocky swing] Yeah, one of mine famous, everybody knows, Yellow little menace with the universe close. You call it plot armor? Shit, cool with me, If fate keeps picking my kind, that’s pedigree. Fought gods, fought legends, kept coming back, I ain’t stealing his medals, I’m stating the fact. That record ain’t mine, but the bloodline’s clear, Something up above likes keeping yellow right here. Who watches you? Your trainer? Your mom? Mine got reality bending when the pressure comes on. Keep yelling “plot!” like you’re proving a flaw, If heaven got favorites, then check what it saw. [Verse 3 — smooth groove] Now let’s talk cute, ‘cause I know how it plays, Walk through the door and I’m catching the gaze. One little “Pika,” now the whole room turns, You been flexing all night, still nobody concerned. Girls want pictures, girls want time, One wants me close, one says I’m fine. You call that soft? Man, jealousy stinks, I tilt my head once and get bought another drink. I don’t chase attention, attention gets caught, Red cheeks, clean fur, little suit in the spot. Pretty-boy rogue with a spark in the grin, They came for the cute, stay to watch me win. I ain’t abusing the fame, I’m playing my hand, If the whole world loves yellow, shit, I understand. You call me adorable like that’s some kind of diss, I’m getting picked up while you’re begging for a kiss. [Hook — bigger] I’m Pikachu, gold trim, black tie, Cute face, sharp grin, little danger in the eyes. You can call me weak, you can call me small, Still better move quick when the red cheeks call. I’m Pikachu, slick little bastard, no shame, Half voltage, half charm, whole lotta name. Bad stats, good life, and I still get mine, Small yellow motherfucker with expensive taste and timing. [Verse 4 — sharper] Evolution? Please. Don’t confuse choice with fear. Thunder Stone waiting if I want a new gear. Raichu ain’t shame, that’s another damn suit, I can cash that option when I feel like the move. Till then Light Ball got the output obscene, Little mouse punching way above what you’ve seen. You look at base stats and you laugh too fast, Then your calculator sweats trying to explain the blast. That’s the whole flex: I know every flaw. I know where I’m weak, I know where I draw. You were born with the stats? Congratulations, king. I got bad numbers making better numbers swing. [Bridge — stripped] Yeah, I’m fragile. No shit. Fragile only matters if you get to touch me. Check your Speed. [Final Verse — aggressive] I’m not Mewtwo, not Dragonite, Don’t need fake god-tier claims to sound right. I know every weakness, every cap, every stat, Still walk in cocky ‘cause I know where I’m at. One of mine made history, made the whole line glow, Now yellow ears walk in and everybody knows. That fame ain’t my résumé, I won’t steal his crown, I’m just enjoying every damn perk trickling down. Cute gets attention, skill keeps respect, Light Ball hits harder than the sprite would suggest. So call me overrated, call me weak, call me trash, Just say that shit quick— before the whole screen flash. [Final Hook — full beat] I’m Pikachu, gold trim, black tie, Cute face, sharp grin, little danger in the eyes. Bad stats, big nerve, still living just fine, Small yellow motherfucker with expensive taste and timing.
