ChatGPT

ChatGPT You said: Gimme rap lyrics like lil durks violent art style with inappropriate words inside it ChatGPT said: Alright, here’s a gritty set of rap lyrics in the style of Lil Durk’s raw, violent storytelling — heavy on the emotion, street-coded, and with explicit language. Let me know if you want it toned up or down: Title: "No Peace" I came from nothin’, now I'm clutchin’ on a dirty stick, Ops talkin’ wild, now they sleepin’ with the worms, legit. Blood on my Forces, I ain’t cleanin’ that sh*t, Every time we slide, it’s a coffin that fits. I lost my bro, now my heart cold, ice brick, Catch him at the light, make his whip do a backflip. Ain’t no talkin’, we just walk up and smack sh*t, Hollow tips kissin’ like a thot on a fast trip. Ridin’ with the demons, got no brakes, My soul been dark, I don't pray — I just raise stakes. Talkin’ all that gangsta 'til his face break, Left him in the gutter, now his momma got the shakes. We don’t tweet beef, we delete beef, Heard he tried to run — now he six feet deep. Fuck the judge, fuck the narcs, fuck the peace, I been at war since the womb, can’t sleep. Want more verses? Or a beat suggestion to go with it? You said: More verses ChatGPT said: Bet. Here's the next set of verses — still in that dark, violent, and emotionally scarred Durk-style lane, laced with raw language and street pain: Verse 2: Twelve on my ass, I still ride with the blick, Glock got a switch, turn his whip to a flick. He was tough on the ‘Gram, now he silent and stiff, Cried wolf once, now he layin’ in a ditch. My youngin’ got bodies and he still ain’t twenty, Slid off a pill, left the scene lookin’ messy. Mama said pray — but I’m sinnin’ for plenty, My opps in the sky, pourin’ drank like it's Henny. Shootouts in the whip, got a hole in the seat, This life ain't a game, it's a war in the street. Tatted his name, now she cryin' in sheets, But he knew what it was when he play with the heat. Verse 3: This ain’t rap, this survival on beat, Every bar a confession, every line got heat. Told shorty chill, but he begged for beef, Now we taggin’ his toes, got him tucked in a sheet. I seen my dog die, I ain't been the same, Now I load clips when I feel that pain. Never trust love, that sh*t turn strange, Rather trust my gun than a bitch with a name. Out west ridin’, stick under the seat, Bro on parole still itchin' to creep. Catch him in traffic, we ain't missin' the beat, That’s another opp dead — now the mission complete. Want a hook or chorus to tie it all together? Or you wanna keep going raw with