fake drizz

You started from the bottom? Nah, that's a facade, Rich kid acting hard, but you’re soft like a mirage. Got fame off Degrassi, never ran through the trenches, Claim you the 6 God, but you hopping over fences. You on the gram, flexing fake emotions for clout, Sliding in DMs, grooming girls on the low route. Texting Millie Bobby, man, what’s wrong with your mind? When the world found out, even OVO hit decline. Fake Drizzy, your image getting blurry, Talk about the struggle, but you never seen the worry. You fronting like you running this, acting like you royalty, But behind the scenes, all I see is disloyalty. You sold your soul for streams, where’s the art, where’s the bars? All those ghostwriters left you without any scars. Shoutout to Quentin, man, he built your foundation, But you can’t claim king without real dedication. Every album’s the same, recycling old trends, You ain’t evolving, just pretending for your friends. How you let Pusha T expose your biggest lie? Now Adonis got a dad who only acts when he’s shy. Fake Drizzy, your whole vibe's kinda sketch, Run from real battles, you can’t even catch a stretch. You claim to be the GOAT, but you lack the aggression, Rap game's a chessboard, you’re just the pawn's reflection. Your ‘no new friends’ motto ain’t worth much, You switch sides quicker than a light touch. Even OVO lookin’ at you like you sus, Got no loyalty, just money is what you trust. Kendrick bodied you, thought that was the end? Nah, that was just the start, my bars will transcend. Kendrick said "no Big 3, just Big Me," that’s his flex? Wouldn't be you, even if it was just the Big—it'd be more like Cube or Em next. Using AI of Pac and Biggie to diss Kendrick, Legends of the streets, but you treat 'em like a gimmick. You claiming you streets, but you ain’t from the block, I’m raised in the suburbs, just like you, quit the talk. Quit playing gangster, you ain’t been through shit, Just a rich boy acting tough, but we all know you’re lit. You, Kendrick, and Cole? Ain't no Big 3, it’s a scam, The real Big 3 is Em, Cube, and Snoop—legends, fam. Don’t mix your name with gods that hold the crown, You just a soft pop star trying to act profound. Got the Billboard records, but the respect’s missing, Every verse sound like you’re out here fishing. From rap beefs to breakups, you been taking Ls, Why you crying, Aubrey? Man, it’s easy to tell. You Canadian soft, but wanna sound so street, We all know you ain’t built for this heat. Kendrick passed you, Cole’s laughing from the peak, Real rap’s back, and you ain't unique. Chasing trends while the legends stay sleek, You’re just a ghost in the game, lost in your own streak. You call it 'God's Plan,' but if God saw your moves, He’d change that plan quick, 'cause you got nothin' to prove. You’re using AI to craft your bars, where’s the soul in that? No real thought behind your verses, just a digital trap. Talkin' 'bout “God's Plan,” but you don’t even know, Gave away some cash, thought that made you a pro. But it’s a marketing scheme, just a part of your brand, While real ones in the struggle can’t even take a stand. Claim you’re a hero, but it’s all for the likes, Droppin' tracks for the fame, but it’s just a disguise. You ain’t savin’ lives, you just playin’ the role, In a world full of fake, man, you’re far from the goal.