Letra
Title: "Exposed King"
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Verse 1
Hey Liver King, let me pull back the blinds,
You’re the guy selling lies in those ancestral lines.
Claimin’ that you’re primal, but your lab bills don’t lie,
‘Cause real ironheads know it takes more than raw liver to fly.
You preach nine ancestral truths but forgot to mention,
The needle in the stack, yeah, that synthetic tension.
Real work ain’t bought in some backroom lab,
It’s hours in the gym, not a pharma tag.
Chorus
Who’s the king? Nah, you’re a court jester in disguise,
Flexin’ on the 'gram with them puffed-up lies.
Try to fool the kids with that caveman vibe,
But this is real muscle talk — welcome to the tribe.
Verse 2
I grind every day, under sweat, blood, and steel,
No shortcuts, no scripts, just the genuine feel.
You're sellin' quick wins in a primal facade,
While real athletes laugh, 'cause we see through the fraud.
You claim to live raw, but that needle is stacked,
Behind closed doors, while you preach the "all-natural" act.
I lift, I eat, I sleep, repeat — no deception,
The real strength of a warrior ain’t found in injections.
Bridge
Tell the truth, Liver King, this ain’t the 1800s,
Your liver and bull test don’t build bodies from hundreds.
You’re a businessman first, yeah, y