Tiny Flex, Big Excuses

You mad at the world But the world ain't the issue It’s that baby-ass dick Need a magnifying crystal Talking like a killer You a clown in a fit Whole crew yelling “pause” But there’s nothing to quit You blame your mom, your dad Your ex, your friends, your health You blame the goddamn mirror Blame the cards you were dealt You cry about your grind But you dodge every test Only joystick you mastered Barely fills up your hand It’s that small-ass dick That’s the root of your hate (yeah) Pointing fingers at the planet But it’s you that’s fake You talk gangsta, talk tough But your ego’s limp Whole life built up ’Round a two-inch myth It’s that small-ass dick That you curse every day So you swear at everybody ’Cause you ain’t okay You say “fuck the world” But the world just shrugs You need therapy and truth Not a bottle and drugs Screaming “I’m a boss” But your stats say “nah” Only thing you ever carry Is that tiny-ass flaw You good at games, cool You can camp, you can spam Still rage quit life Pointing blame at the fam You spam “L” in the chat You a joke in real life Say you pipe any chick But you scared of the lights You flex pixels, fake wins Like that proves you the man But your ego like your package Fit inside one hand It’s that small-ass dick That’s the root of your hate (uh) Pointing fingers at the planet But it’s you that’s fake You talk gangsta, talk tough But your ego’s limp Whole life built up ’Round a two-inch myth It’s that small-ass dick Got you loud, insecure Saying “fuck y’all all” Like that’s some kind of cure You can blame every soul From your folks to your ex But that tiny-ass problem Lives right in your sweats