Bella Donna — disstrack Part 5: Blocked & Playin' Poor Me You cloned diva sacrificed and lied bout me big time Verse 1 You hit the block like it’s surgery, cut me out the frame, but you keep rehearsing victim lines, recycling the same. Screenshots in my pocket, receipts lined like teeth, you play saint on the timeline but your halo’s cheap. Called me toxic, called me crazy, called me every curse, then ghosted like a coward when your story unrehearsed. You’re acting like the martyr, velvet rope and fake bruise, I’m the chapter you delete but can’t forget to abuse. Pre-Chorus Press mute, press block — can’t stop my echo, can’t stop my day, you build a shrine of sympathy and call it your getaway. Part five of your saga, same plot, new disguise, I see the cracks in your act with my own two eyes. Chorus Blocked me, then cried on the 'Gram like you owed the world a truth, playing victim, wearing sorrow like couture in your youth. Bella Donna, poison bloom with a plastic tear, I’m the echo of your lies and the whisper that you fear. Keep your clout, keep your script — I’ll burn it down in rhyme, I’m the unwritten verse in your rewinds, I’m the clock you stole from time. Verse 2 You parade your fall apart, audition for my pity, but sympathy’s a currency you spent on petty city. Every story’s curated, every sorrow stylized, but I watched you lace the narrative while you memorized. You blocked the chat but not the shade you cast, tried to bury what we had — I dug up truth too fast. You’re folding innocence like paper, creases full of lies, I fold you into memory, watch your chorus die. Pre-Pre-Chorus You say you lost yourself, I say you bought a mask, your confession’s just a headline, another empty task. Part five, encore — you want applause for pain, I’ll clap back with a beat that shatters your campaign. Chorus Blocked me, then cried on the 'Gram like you owed the world a truth, playing victim, wearing sorrow like couture in your youth. Bella Donna, poison bloom with a plastic tear, I’m the echo of your lies and the whisper that you fear. Keep your clout, keep your script — I’ll burn it down in rhyme, I’m the unwritten verse in your rewinds, I’m the clock you stole from time. Bridge (rapid-fire) You flash your wounds like filters on a Sunday, staged, I watched you move the pieces — marionette, actress, cage. You call it battling demons — I call it PR with tone, I’m the mirror you refuse, the parts you never own. Checkmate in three moves, sympathy’s a cheap prize, you blocked the line but left the truth in my replies. Breakdown I don’t need your hashtag healing or your pity parade, I’m cutting loose the anchor that your drama made. You wore the victim crown but it’s twisted on your head, I’ll be the silence in the choir when they sing what you said. Final Chorus Blocked me, then cried on the 'Gram like you owed the world a truth, playing victim, wearing sorrow like couture in your youth. Bella Donna, poison bloom with a plastic tear, I’m the echo of your lies and the whisper that you fear. Keep your clout, keep your script — I’ll burn it down in rhyme, I’m the final note you silence, I’m the ending you can’t mime. Outro Part five, curtain call — you exit stage with hollow cheers, I walk off with my rhythm, leave your shadow with its tears.
