Letter to the opps

Yo, listen up, it's time to speak my mind, I'm about to drop some fire, leave the opps behind. You think you tough, but your rhymes are wack, I bring the heat, leave you scorched and flat. You all claim to be kings, but it's all a facade, Fake gangsters, soft as cotton, you should applaud. I'm the real deal, authentic from the start, While y'all stay frontin', playing a fake part. I got flows for days, bars that sting, Your raps are weak, like a broken swing. I'm climbing to the top, while you stuck at the bottom, Your career's a joke, yeah, I'm laughing, hear me roar and condemn. You claim to be my rival? Nah, just a joke, I'll end you like a punchline, leave you broke. Your crew's all talk, but I'm all action, Taking shots at me? Better come with some traction. I'm the new school, fresh with the flows, You're washed up like old clothes, everybody knows. I'm the king of this game, wearing the crown, You're just a pawn, I'm knocking you down. So step aside, opps, you're no threat to me, I feast on your weak rhymes, like it's victory. I'm the real deal, you're just phony and shallow, In this rap game, I reign supreme, the undisputed king, follow.