DEFENDER'S RAP

• Was? More like “never been,” past tense fraud,
• Your name’s already proof you ain’t beatin’ the odds.
• I’m on god-tier timing, you stuck in the lag,
• You rap like a filler, I’m the red dot tag.
• No weight in your lines, they float when they land,
• I spit anvils, you just scribble in sand.
• You flex online like you run some scene,
• But in real life, you a sub to a meme.
• Tryna act bold with your plastic threats,
• But I bend whole genres, you ain’t cracked one yet.
• You TikTok bait with a SoundCloud dream,
• I’m a warhead burst through your dollar-store scheme.
• You brag with no backbone, style with no soul,
• I could mute this verse and still out-control.
• Your best punchline wouldn’t dent my draft,
• I ghost more legends than your whole paragraph.
• I paint with precision, you trace with fear,
• My pen leak fire, yours disappear.
• Was never nice, was never raw,
• Was always fake, was never law.
• You drip reheated, I bleed unique,
• You rap like Siri, I write mystique.
• Was built his name on a house of tweets,
• I built mine in the dark where the monsters eat.
• You the type to fold if the pressure’s slight,
• I’m the shadow in the room when you kill the light.
• You scroll through trends for a bar to borrow,
• I stare into the void and spit out sorrow.
• You weak in your posture, limp in your stance,
• I lace every word like a sniper’s glance.
• You chasing clout, I chase the void,
• You just a bot I was sent to destroy.
• I’m post-apocalyptic, you sitcom soft,
• I aim for the stars while you beg for a loft.
• You post little threats with a weakman’s breath,
• But I write like I’m summoned by pain and death.
• You rap for applause—I rap to exhale,
• You riding a wave that’s doomed to derail.
• I don’t even hate you, I just needed to spar,
• You a pawn in the script, I’m the scene’s real scar.
• No heart in your grind, no truth in your bars,
• Just filters and fonts and invisible scars.
• You Was, and that’s fitting—'cause your time’s long gone,
• This a funeral march written cold and strong.
• 64 lines, all venom, no filler,
• You just got cooked by a lyrical killer.
• Now log off, fade out, go rest in the mist,
• You Was somebody... too bad you don’t exist