They said I was built for this—stitched from steel, Born where the wolves feast, raised to never kneel. They teach you to grin while they sharpen their blades, And the first time you blink is the last time you’re paid. A suit ain’t armor, it’s a fucking disguise, A kingdom of mirrors, a temple of lies. Every deal’s a death wish, every handshake’s a noose, They pour you champagne, then cut you loose. Boardroom bloodsport, debts get paid, Who gets rich, who gets played? Shake their hand, count your days, Smiles like knives, deals like graves. Boardroom bloodsport, sharks smell the blood, Fortunes built on corpses buried in the mud. Boardroom bloodsport, trust turns to dust, System rigged from birth, the game's corrupt as fuck. I watched a CEO trade his soul for a loan, Lost his wife, lost his kids, now he dies alone. They sent flowers to his funeral, then split up his shares, Said a toast in his honor—fucking billionaires. They don’t stab your back, they just sell you the rope, Watch you tighten the knot while they sell you more hope. They rewrite the fine print while you sign on the line, And by the time that you notice, your empire ain’t mine. Boardroom bloodsport, debts get paid, Who gets rich, who gets played? Shake their hand, count your days, Smiles like knives, deals like graves. Boardroom bloodsport, kings don’t pray, Bet your soul or walk away. Write your will, set your trust, Only the killers win this dust. I had partners, I had friends—had a crew at my side, Till they saw what I built and they plotted my ride. You don’t lose to the enemy, that’s never the game, It’s the ones that you feed who remember your name. They smiled at my table, they whispered my praise, Then fucking sold me for scraps on a hungover day. But I don’t play fair, I don’t beg, I don’t break, I don’t pray for revenge—I just fucking dictate. These deals ain’t contracts, they’re hit lists in ink, They sign with a smirk, they toast while you sink. You think you’re a king? You think you’re untouchable? Wait ‘til the wolves get a taste of your blood and your knuckles. Boardroom bloodsport, debts get paid, Who gets rich, who gets played? Shake their hand, count your days, Smiles like knives, deals like graves. Boardroom bloodsport, war don’t end, One falls down, two step in. Take your shot, roll your dice, But don’t fucking blink, ‘cause it all ends twice.* They build statues for winners, but they carve graves deeper. The last king was a legend— now he’s just a fucking feature.
