DISSIN’ THE DISSER

Verse

Yo, you call yourself a rapper? That’s a bold accusation,

Your bars so weak they need a GoFundMe donation.

You drop a diss track? Man, that’s comedy gold —

I’ve seen toddlers with rhythm that was better controlled.

Verse

Your lines fall flat like a tire with no pressure,

Every verse you deliver’s just a cringe-filled lecture.

You brag about heat, but your tracks stay lukewarm —

I'm a lyrical thunderstorm, you're a light summer drizzle storm.

Verse

You rhyme “fire” with “fire” then repeat it again,

Bro, that’s not a double entendre — that’s a skill issue trend.

You write bars like you’re scared they might actually rhyme,

I swear your whole style’s stuck in “beginner mode” time.

Verse

I spit precision — each word hits like a sniper,

You spit confusion — every bar needs a decipher.

You said you’d destroy me? What a bold little claim,

But you lost before you started — reputation down the drain.

Outro

I’m the chef in the kitchen, you can’t handle the heat,

Your diss tracks come prepackaged like a bargain-bin beat.

So step back, lil’ rapper, take notes while I teach,

‘Cause your career’s like your punches — always failin’ to reach.