[Verse 1]
They call me a rapper, they couldn't be more wrong
I am a creator, I only rap, for fun
But there's a meaning, it's not the cause of boredom
Didn't you read my story? Bitch, get your lore on
I'm playing cause I love, they're playing, but they suck
They're only on top, because they blow lots of cock
But in a year, there's someone new people wanna hear
And guess what? Then they'll just, suddenly disappear (yea)
And then there’s you, I call you the complainer
Criticising badly, so people call you a hater
And you don’t create shit, but if you did, let’s be honest
You’d just be like, the real life Cacofonix
I make music, and if people like it, that’s fantastic
But you, boo, when you should, just move past it
You bastard, confronting me about your problems
When all you had to do was, keep walking, to solve them
You’re talking about how you fucking hate me
But you’re forgetting one important fact, it doesn’t phase me
Basically you’re just jealous that I make music
Cause you wish that you had the balls and talent to do it
But dammit you bitch about everything that you think
Is too sick or confusing it’s you, who is stupid
You should stick a fucking gun to your head
And pull the trigger *gunshot* if you don’t understand, then you’re dead
Yea I said it, suck your own dick and then blow your head off
After you get off, urgh, I hate you so fucking much
Why do you play so fucking tough? Fucking stop
Suck a huge disgusting fucking cock and eat the cum after you puke it up