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Yo, he actin' like he's rich, callin' himself a star,
Thinkin' he's attractive, but nah, that’s too far.
Cringin’ hard, tryna flex in front of the crowd,
With that Goyard bucket bag, bro, lookin' proud.
But real talk? You look like moms fresh from the store,
Grocery bags in hand, nothin' worth to adore.
Checked your profile, man, your face got them angles square,
Mama cryin' out, like, "Please put on some underwear!"
You broke as hell, runnin' low on competition funds,
Rewards weak, no one showin’ up, you beggin’ for crumbs.
You front like a rapper, but ain't nobody knows your name,
What's the name of your track? Streams lookin' lame.
People ain’t your friends, they just here for mama’s cash,
You a joke to them, man, just a flash that won’t last.
This whole thing’s a game, we all see through your lies,
Tryna act real, but your real life’s a disguise.
You think you five-star, but you’re budget at best,
Cheapest hostel vibes, man, you ain’t pass the test.
Stop actin' like you’re 'bout that life, fakin' accents,
Bruh, you Indonesian, stop chasin' that pretense.
Auto-tune so thick, soundin' like a cartoon,
Nobody playin’ your tracks, man, your career's doomed.
You type a lot, skrrt skrrt, but it’s cringey as hell,
Goks goks like a dog, barkin' stories you sell.
You new in this game, tossed out like a trash bag,
Mama ain’t payin’ debts ‘cause you just a drag.
Even beggin' her for Burger King cash? What a joke,
Seven K gold, man, your whole life’s broke.
No wonder nobody’s rockin' with this poor event,
And after this, welcome to your canon event.
Take some advice, play it back, feel the heat,
Now get out my face, and try to land on your feet.