R.I.P. (Rekt In Pieces)

What if the songs I release are only for cash?
That I don't feel what I do and I left pride behind
That I'm not worth shit and I don't know anything about rap
That my fame has risen and I am drowning in vanity
And among so many lies there is only one truth
Envy corrodes those rappers like lime
Everyone makes a movie and tries to pretend
Which is real as if it were a fake documentary

And there are many people who do it for the piggy bank
And not to raise the level and give more fight
I look into your eyes under your hood
And everyone reveals that they really listen to me
But they don't admit it even if they move their necks
Because their king always repeats to every commoner
What cannot be is that an internet rapper
Have so much fluidity and break it better than them

But ugh... I refer to the evidence
If the public is the judge, then let them give their verdict
I barely practice but when I pick up the microphone
My style is a legend and yours remained a myth
Pito pito warbler
Who will be the next favorite that I gut?
I've been doing this since I was a kid and
I apologize for the anger it generated in those egos that I poisoned

Let me explain: Crazy, I'm not going to King Under
But I make a billion MC's bleed
I'm looking for new meat to satisfy my hunger
They want to escape but it's too late
I see it as normal that in front of this rap they don't even show off
They can't reach me even with a thousand tandems
They criticizing and I'm happy: Pharrell
They just leave things unfinished: Cliffhanger

Welcome to the Jungle, I've screwed up your Plan B
And even the Z if I get around to it, men
The panorama is very similar to the Hunger Games
Do you want to fuck, fakes? Let's get ready to rumble!
You intend to have fame and glory in an instant
They go big and get smaller when I attack them
This rap thing for me is like Street Fighter
Because when I pick up a beat and a mic I always crush them

So yeah, I came here to hang out
I already decided that in the ring I am a born winner
Surprise all the MC's because he grabbed the bic pen
Just like Bruce Lee grabs nunchucks
Runts, what are you doing? You better speed up
I do speedrun and you do 126 Gameplays
If they call me what I am not, well hey
Don't hate the keyblade, hate the game, m8

I understand that those rappers don't understand me at first
And they think my music is harmful
They had been asleep for a long time and it blinded them
The light that has been in his room since I opened the curtains

I came to break the doctrine
That here the one who dominates is the one who imposes and forgets
What they advance and think that what others do not rhyme
And instead of supporting his partner, he undermines him
And in the end he only looks to increase his payroll
With a boring rap that sleeps like morphine
They are lives based on fucking and demotivating
This is Master Chef, come to the kitchen

First of all, a rapper with very little to offer you
And he's been doing the same thing since this game started
Second, a filthy creep with zero dignity
What left his entire team lying around for money?
And finally the words you said
With those you accused and then swallowed
The panorama is a disaster
Where there are more people opening their mouths to a gospel choir

He cares more about the poster than what I bet
And the whole level, what a contribution
I surpassed him in attitude I am Haute Couture
Faced with its repetitive ready-to-wear
I noticed that its level drops more than the tide
Dizzy their ugly shit, they brag about what they believe
But no matter what, they are going to try to make you see that the shit they are selling you is the pure panacea

In other words, it doesn't matter how hard you hit, but how hard they can hit you
If you've tripped over the same fucking stone twenty times, maybe you've already gotten the taste for jumping
When you get rid of your cards, they give more
I devour them like a Seviper, yum yum
I have more precision than a Sniper, bang bang
I survive in this prison, Piper Chapman

They criticize me and in truth they praise my prose
My pagan style begins where God ends
If the floor is envious, they sink in viscous lava
They only come to look for a fight like Koksal Baba
Be it feeling or competition, he always nailed it
I have a big theme in constant development
I pay no attention to the defamation of a stupid memo
I'm scary like the appearance of the demongorgon

I break the scale, dude, do you want to compete?
There won't be much drama, you don't know anything about me
I know that I gave fame to more than one hater when I shouldn't have
I take a scale out of the panorama with a Do Re Mi
Poor MC, he only knows how to throw beef
And in my garden I will not admit wannabes
I killed them like Kenny, please; like Kennedy
The quality of his rap is in parentheses

REKT IN PIECES