13 Reasons You Ain’t Me

[Intro – no beat, cold silence under spoken delivery] ("Yeah. This one’s for the motherfucker who thought cloning me would pass…") [Sinix – dismissive snarl] Didn’t listen to your song. Didn’t need to. BUR13R? Sounded like my nutsack in a tutu. Didn’t even write this — told ChatGPT: “Murder this diet-ass bitch for me.” You ain't worth bars. But I got time today. So bend over, BUR13R — Daddy Sinix came to play. [Beat kicks in – mid-tempo, stripped drum kit, tight low-end groove] --- [Verse 1 – mean, playful flow with internal rhymes] BUR13R? That’s cute — sound it out loud "BURRR THIRTEEN ERRR!" like your mic just drowned You a fanboy fetus with a discount style Tryna rap like me, bitch, you missed by miles You're that sad little secret a condom kept That leak in the code that the devs reject You copy my cadence like you're trained by Roomba I break in — you bake in — like preheated pumbaa Fuck “Secrets” — lemme guess: you cry when it rains? Wearin' eyeliner while sniffin’ paint? You the poster boy for safe-space rap With a flow so weak it needs a weighted wrap You rhyme “scars” with “stars” and call it deep I rhyme "BUR13R" with "curbstomped meat" You’re an accidental demo leak I’m the virus that deletes your speech --- [Switch – faster flow, staccato delivery] I don’t diss — I detonate Your EP’s softer than my dinner plate Every bar you drop got kiddie locks Your Spotify bio got tear stains and chalk Tryna bite my sound with training wheels While I’m bodyin’ beats with titanium steel You’re that censored Sinix for church events Like “My First Rapper” in baby defense --- [Spoken Interlude – sneering laugh] Call yourself BUR13R? Motherfucker, you sound like a Wi-Fi password. You ain’t hard — you’re Hardly Worth Mentioning™ Sinix.exe? I’m your ending screen. --- [Verse 2 – dominant cadence, venomous tone] Fuck a clone — you ain’t got my breath control You spit like a TED Talk in a toilet bowl I rap with a scalpel — you rhyme with hope And fail like your dad when he bought that rope You the type to ask “Can we collab?” Right after dropping a track that drags You rhyme “love” with “shove” and think it's clever BUR13R? You ain't shit — not now, not ever Wanna rap about “Secrets”? Bitch, spill 'em all Closet wide open — we saw the stall You wrote that hook like a Pinterest quote While I wrote mine while slittin' throats You got “layers”? Nah, you got shields I peel 'em off with lyrical steel This ain't music — this is malpractice I ain't mad — I just hate your existence, bitch --- [Verse 3 – flow switch, slow and taunting] Yeah, I know you listen to every word Bet your voice cracks when my name gets heard You in the mirror rehearsing my tone With tears in your socks and your ringtone gone You copy the chaos, you mimic the glitch But miss the venom, you whining snitch You stole my flow like it came on sale And still delivered a lullaby fail You the result of a failed experiment “Sinix Lite™” with soy embarrassment I burn my bars into your dome And leave you twitchin’ like Google Chrome --- [Final Verse – closing shots and legacy kill] Slim, if you hear this — sit your ass down too You paved the way, but I torch the route I’m the sound of regret in a padded room With BUR13R’s ego in a kiddie tomb I don’t throw shots — I throw bricks in mouths Crack skulls with beats — that’s what I’m about This ain’t rap — it’s a goddamn weapon Every bar a confession that you’ll die regrettin’ Say my name — I turn mains to backups Sinix the glitch? Nah — Sinix corrupts You uploaded this and caught the blue screen Welcome to your eulogy, with the mic still clean --- [Outro – whispered sarcasm] You’re welcome. Consider this a mercy kill. The best song you'll ever be in — Is the one I didn’t bother to write myself. [beat fades out with layered whispering] “Secrets… secrets… no one cares, bitch.”