It’s not the typa concept I’m tryna teach ya
One day when you’re old enough
I’ll tell ya the story of how I died
But don’t come crying to me like
“Maa, why didn’t you tell us you survived?”
When I tried my best to call
Y’all told me I didn’t try enough
And when I tried to tell you lies
Y’all told me I wasn’t strong enough
Wrong enough
Long enough
If I was like you, I’d be Bong enough
But that doesn’t matter to me
I’m not petty like you lazy BOYS
Every rack I ever made
I put my body through the pain
I coulda been a tech-geek scammеr
Just like Ranjit from Metro PCS
But at the samе time, I learned gratitude from my papa
Before they sent him away for smoking graphite and lead
You woulda loved my father a lot
If y’all weren’t some racist, classist f***s
Unlike y’all pathetic sorry losers
I actually know how to make authentic bread
Must be nice to hack an account
Then act like you so innocent
YouTube famous off live streams on Twitch
Must be cool to steal the queen’s throne
My name begins with the letter F
Just like all the grades your ancestors gave you
Don’t even think about no Chunin exam
Y’all aren’t even getting admission into Ninja elementary
Lady Tsunade is my alter ego
Nicki Minaj is my inner rebel
My butt wasn’t fat enough, y’all tried to teach me
It’s funny cause, how can it get big with no pack
Y’all smoking from the earliest years
Weaker than a female warrior
You must feel foolish for how much you harmed me
Trying to nurture yourself from your own ego
Didn’t Weezy warn you all, about the dangers of schemy karma
‘Make sure that b**ch is beautiful’
And still you wanted yourself some ugly ho*s
Got your ashy foot all up on your Twitch camera like
You not an Adin clone
Don’t know shi* about your own anatomy
That’s a vital organ in my prayers
Hacking is quite a game to y’all, did you ever hear of hack-a-thon?
It’s the one day you sit and cry to yourself
Because you’re the selfish reason for all my woes
No more changes
Is that a corny phrase enough for you?
To sift through peoples’ minds for words
Is not a skill to flex
Aunthor my Bestie
My Zamazenta from the Bronx
The music that keeps my soul afloat
The effort that y’all call, ‘luck’
‘Oh he’s so lucky’ you gossip to each other
Because y’all can’t define any flows
Acting more like girls than b**ches
It’s no wonder y’all don’t deserve a mom
Trauma makes us Arceae
The rest of y’all are some lifeless pawns
Check mate, to your leader
Tell him he can directly hit my line
Return me all my funds you stole
Then try to scramble for a new HR