(Intro)
Step out the shadows — don’t hide behind the screen,
I’m the reason why your idols never f***in' intervene.
You don’t know war, boy, just the sound of pretend,
I'm the demon your crew fears — beginning to end.
(Verse 1)
Ain’t your fam, I’m the enemy of enemies,
Burn you in silence, no need for melodies.
Flexin’ fake chains? I melt ‘em in bars,
While I’m stormin’ the gates, you just wishin’ on stars.
You a rapper? Nah — you a TikTok gimmick,
I drop truth like a guillotine, raw and acidic.
My name rings out in places you can’t spell,
You post threats, I turn verses into shells.
You scared of beef? I eat that for lunch,
You in deep sh*t, this ain’t no Brady Bunch.
While you beg for a feature, I bury your brand,
I ain't signin' no deals — I write 'em in blood with my hand.
(Hook)
I’m the blade in the night, the flame in the sky,
You scream too much — real killers move quiet, sly.
You think you're hard? I was raised by the scars,
Middle East heat — we make gods outta bars.
Ain’t your cousin, fool — I’m your worst damn threat,
Say my name once, it’s a lifetime regret.
This ain’t rap beef — I turn mics to war,
And your squad to ashes on the cold studio floor.
(Verse 2)
Don’t test me, I’m not built like the rest,
You got filters and fame — I got pain in my chest.
I bled in these streets while you danced for views,
I make funerals rhyme — that’s the style I use.
You talk loyalty? Your own boys fake,
One punchline’ll make your whole legacy break.
I ain’t here for the fame, I’m here for the kill,
Every syllable loaded, my verses don’t chill.
From the alleys to the throne, I carved my lane,
You bought streams, I earned my name in the rain.
I don't beef online — I bring that smoke in person,
Your verse? Dead. But wait — mine’s the hearse and the sermon.
(Hook)
I’m the flame from the East, the voice of the cursed,
You flex fake pride — I bring pain unrehearsed.
Don’t talk like a king when you cry like a pup,
You bark in the dark — I light your whole block up.
Ain’t your cousin, dawg — I’m your karma unpaid,
A knife in the beat — sharp, cold, and handmade.
Your ego too big? I’ll size it in chalk,
Enemy of enemies — I don’t talk, I walk.
(Verse 3)
Listened to your tracks, they soft like silk,
I spit bars that hit harder than guilt.
You tryna ride waves? I drown ships for fun,
You dropped a mixtape — I dropped a loaded gun.
You act like a legend, but you mimic the greats,
While I sharpen my pen like I’m carving your fate.
Say my name in your cypher, I’ll haunt your dreams,
Turn a beat to a battleground — no in-betweens.
You ain’t seen war ‘til you heard me spit,
You flash your money, I flash that grit.
I’m not a rapper — I’m a damn execution,
Every line’s a sentence — lyrical retribution.
(Outro)
So next time you write me into your rhyme,
Remember: I don’t clap back — I erase lines.
No room for clowns in the court of kings,
I’m the shadow that drags when the guillotine swings.
