[Intro]
Oi — listen up, bruv.
Low lights, endz hummin'.
No filter, just facts.
[Verse 1]
You a fake hustler, clout junkie, dopamine fiend,
Posting boss moves, bank app scream — that’s the scene.
Flex like you rich — card declines, you mute,
Same tee, same grin, same cropped pursuit.
Mandem laugh, wasteman moves, bare photo ops,
You film a studio backdrop, call it real — it’s props.
Hackney to the estate, I see the pattern clear,
You chasing likes, I stack nights — mandem know I’m here.
[Pre-Chorus]
(whisper) Rented gold, rented bits — it don’t last.
(surge) Actions louder than your highlights cast.
[Chorus — call/response]
Fake flex — (watch it)
Fake flex — (watch it fold)
Fake flex — (pay the rent)
Fake flex — (lesson told)
[Verse 2]
Same tee, same two-pose, same thin grin,
Cheap chain from a weekend bin — that’s your bling.
You tag Dubai, Peckham, but your passport white lies,
Dining on filtered wraps — a fake lobster vibe.
Caption full of hustle quotes, sold for a like,
You share a dupe tote, call it designer hype.
I count midnight sessions, you count stolen snaps,
You build a paper palace, I build concrete facts.
[Bridge — half-time, reflective]
Slow it down — breathe the silence after the ping,
Dopamine fades, empty followers never bring.
Real ones hold weight where cameras can't roam,
You built for the gram — I built a home.
[Verse 3 — escalate]
I watch your empire glitch: unread DMs, ghost fame,
Followers are echoes, names shift like rain.
You hustle for the mirror; the mirror never pays,
When winter comes for clout, who covers your days?
I sharpen bars like razors, ledger-lines cut deep,
You trade legacy for trends — awake when you sleep.
Punchlines drop like receipts — crumpled on the floor,
You bought a moment; I built an era — who’s left when captions clear?
[Chorus — final, full voice + doubled ad-lib]
Fake flex — (watch it)
Fake flex — (watch it fold)
Fake flex — (pay the rent)
Fake flex — (lesson told)
Fake flex — (watch it)
Fake flex — (lesson)
[Outro]
No filters left, no borrowed lights — curtain folds,
When followers fade, actions keep the gold.
Lesson delivered, bruv — time’s the referee.
Endz remember real work, not your history.
[Production Notes]
Tempo: 88 BPM. UK-flavoured snare snap, deep sub-bass, distant church-choir pad under hook.
Arrangement: sparse verses, pre-chorus whisper swell into punchy hook. Half-time bridge with minimal keys.
Textures: staccato hi-hat rolls into final chorus; last chorus doubled vocal, slight pitch-shift on ad-libs for grit.
Delivery: clipped UK cadence, sly sneer in verses, full-voice, doubled hook with call/response ad-libs.
