Short King Pride Attack

Lyrics

(Check, check) Yeah. Look at you, man. I gotta do this. Hold up, let me set the record straight real quick. Turn the headphones up. Yeah. (Let's go) Yo, five foot four and you're standing on your pride? But you can't even see over the table where you hide. No job, no career, just a professional at sleep, Promises of making money that you never ever keep. Every single day it's just chicken and the rice, Living off your mama and you never pay the price. No girlfriend in sight, not a single text or call, Just you and your reflection, feeling ten feet tall. But let's be real, you are microscopic in this game, Got a big mouth but you got zero acclaim. You claim you're a hustler, claim you're the man, But the only thing you run is out of data on your plan. You're always glazing Barca like they know who you are! (who you are) Five-foot-four but you're reaching for the stars! (for the stars) Chicken and the rice, that's the only thing you eat! (thing you eat) No job, no girl, just a loser in the street! (in the street) Talkin' 'bout Yamal like he's your best friend! (your best friend) But your bank account is looking at the bitter end! (bitter end) Let's talk about Lamine Yamal, you obsessed little fan, He's a teenager shining, you're a grown-ass man. Sitting on your couch with your belly hanging out, Chanting 'Visca Barca' with a pathetic little shout. You think because they win, that makes you a winner too? They wouldn't let you clean the stadium, it's true. You're just a leech on a legacy you didn't even build, While your own little life is completely unfulfilled. No girlfriend to hold, just a screen in the dark, Leaving angry comments trying hard to make a mark. Five foot four and you're heavy as a truck, Eating more chicken rice than a whole damn farm, what the luck? You're always glazing Barca like they know who you are! (who you are) Five-foot-four but you're reaching for the stars! (for the stars) Chicken and the rice, that's the only thing you eat! (thing you eat) No job, no girl, just a loser in the street! (in the street) Talkin' 'bout Yamal like he's your best friend! (your best friend) But your bank account is looking at the bitter end! (bitter end) Look at you now, nothing left to say. Your fantasy world is just fading away. Barca don't know you, Yamal don't care, You're just a speck of dust in the open air! Get up off the couch, go get a real life, Instead of causing internet trouble and strife! (let's go!) You're always glazing Barca like they know who you are! (who you are) Five-foot-four but you're reaching for the stars! (for the stars) Chicken and the rice, that's the only thing you eat! (thing you eat) No job, no girl, just a loser in the street! (in the street) Talkin' 'bout Yamal like he's your best friend! (your best friend) But your bank account is looking at the bitter end! (bitter end) Yeah. That's it. We done here. Five foot four... man, just stop talking. Go eat your chicken and rice and dream about Barca. (We out) Peace.