[Style: Detroit chopper rap, aggressive phonk bassline, gritty minimalist 808s, rhythmic hostility, rapid-fire cadence] [Vocals: Nasal, sarcastic, lightning-fast lyrical dexterity, mocking tone, sharp punchlines] (Beat drops heavy) Look, look... Walking up the steps, bleach blonde in the back Got a pocket full of Xanax and a knack for the attack Talking all that garbage on the net, making threats Little internet clown looking for a safety net Try to battle? You're a shadow of a shadow of a ghost Homie, you a side dish, I’m the whole damn roast Swinging like a wrecking ball, wrecking all your confidence Vocabulary dense, leaving holes in your competence Chasing clout, running your mouth, stepping in the trap I'm a tornado blowing through a kindergarten rap! (Beat cuts, punchline hits) You're a zero with a hero complex, bitch. (Beat kicks back in, double time) Got you backing up, stuttering, fumbling your words Flocking to your little clique of insignificant birds You a copy of a copy, Xeroxed and pathetic Need a medic, cause my clinic drops a style so genetic Pumping poison through the speakers while you looking for a loophole Sold your soul to a trend just to fill up the whole role Talking heavy 'bout the streets from a suburban cul-de-sac Take a step into the fire and you panic, step back! (Bridge - Beat strips down to raw 808 sub bass) Tick-tock, clock's ticking on your fifteen minutes Every track you ever dropped is completely finished You a meme on a screen, you a flash in the pan Try to stand where I stand? Get swept like sand. (Beat drops back full power, aggressive chop) So keep typing your essays, keep writing your blogs You're just barking up a tree talking down to the dogs I'm a lyrical surgical, cutting through the garbage fast Built to last while your entire little movement crash! (Outro - Beat fades out slow, single snare hit) Yeah. Keep talking. Cut the mic.
