Lyrics
(Verse 1)
Yo, listen up, I’m here to elevate the game,
Sick of these self-proclaimed writers puffin' their fame.
You call it art? Nah, it's just a sad charade,
I'm spittin' fire while you crumple and fade.
In Singapore they blare those National Day songs,
But what’s patriotic about ‘em? They feel all wrong.
I write better hits in my sleep; it’s effortless—
While you’re still rehearsing your lines like a mess.
Got demons inside that are waking me up,
Ready to slay any wannabe who's dumb enough.
You pick the wrong fight thinking you're supreme—
Cuz boy I’m lethal injection straight piercing your dream.
(Chorus)
King of kings on this mic when I'm ready to flex,
Carry balls for fame? No thanks! What’s next?
Suck a dick for clout just to be me one sec'?
I'd rather be 80 years old than live with regrets!
(Verse 2)
Yeah motherfucker—I gave you a career only so I could destroy—
Every bar you rapped sounded like a toy!
Your sound's played out; now watch me ignite,—
I’m six feet deep if I don't hit 'em right tonight.
Voice of the voiceless—you can’t ignore this heat,
Raising hell in this booth like it’s time for defeat.
All your weak rhythms won’t stand my test:
When an icon speaks truth—the world gets blessed.
Poppin’ off shots at these crap musicians fake toughs—
Stacking victories while y'all stay stuck in your cuffs.
So go ahead and sleep tight—it ain’t no nightmare—a sleight hand protected by skill that's rare!
(Chorus)
King of kings on this mic when I'm ready to flex,
Carry balls for fame? No thanks! What’s next?
Suck a dick for clout just to be me one sec’?
I'd rather be 80 years old than live with regrets!
(Outro)
Wake up from delusion—it ain't hard to see,—
I run circles around all these fakes trying too free.
So step down or step back as I rip through the beat,-
And remember who served you; now get six feet deep!
Fuck off!