Yo, Duni out here running a playlist like it's Fort Knox Diss track only, got a velvet rope at the lock My song pull up, bars introspective, real and deep He says "nah, that ain't aggressive enough" and goes to sleep Man said "I got a diss track playlist, invitation only" My song's too honest, got him feeling way too lonely I walk in with sixteen-year-old trauma, dissociation themes He hits me with the clipboard like I'm crashing his wet dreams "Sorry, bro, that's not hostile enough for the cut" Meanwhile my song's out here making listeners' soul erupt You're sitting there like Pitchfork with a rubric and a pen Got a playlist gatekeeper got me feeling like he's Vince I'm dissing dissing, but not YOU specifically, see That's the concept going over your head currently You wanted bars aimed at someone, preferably mean But I wrote something real—now it don't fit your regime Duni the curator, Duni the gatekeeper Duni don't know art when it's delivered in a speaker Said my song too deep, got it thinkin' too hard Can't handle introspection, gatekeepin' his yard Rapid-fire—yo, check it— You want personal attacks? I'll give you something better I'll roast you for excluding actual BARS from your collection That's the ultimate disrespect, the ultimate rejection Call myself a music man, curator of the sound Got a six-feet-tall standard, feet don't touch the ground My song too reflective, too vulnerable, too real You need punch-down content to validate your feel Here's the thing about gatekeeping, homeboy, listen up You exclude the depth, then wonder why your taste is stuck I'm out here processing pain through rhythmic motion You're out here checking boxes like it's some kind of devotion See, you missed the assignment That song ain't FOR you, it's for someone sitting in silence Somebody hurt, somebody lost, somebody reaching While you're here worried about genre gatekeeping So here's my actual diss track for the record, understand Duni out here playing curator when he could be a fan Fear of emotional depth got you hiding behind rules Building playlists, not audiences—that's for the fools Nah, real talk though— My song's gonna live longer than your playlist ever will People gonna cry to it, people gonna heal on it Your folder gonna be forgotten, but my song REAL on it That's the actual diss—the indifference, the staying power You got the gate, I got the songs that last for hours You wanted hostility, I brought authenticity instead Now my introspective trauma's in somebody else's head Thanks for the rejection, made the motivation hit harder Now I'm out here finishing tracks, got the fuel from you, partner That song you wouldn't touch? Already touched three lives While you're scrolling for content, I'm helping people survive
