Mix Master Mocha?, nearly fifty and stressed, Thinkin’ he’s in shape, but he’s benchin’ regrets. Sensitive vibes, but he fakes that hes tough, Moods swingin’ daily—bruh, enough’s enough. Mockin’ my style, callin’ lyrics a crime? But your “Mirox in chat” couldn’t bend a good rhyme. Droppin’ links hopin’ someone will click, Your flow’s halfway through, and I’m already sick. Mix Master Mocha? Bro, the mix ain’t right, You’re stuck on the playlist but I’m the spotlight. Got a miss in the past, now you chasing the void, I’m the mentor, you the student who got destroyed. Mood swings hittin’ like a broken clock, Tickin’ off time while I’m punchin’ the top. I’m the blueprint, carved from blood and sweat, You’re a free trial track—ain’t nobody invest. Mocha talk big, but the skill don’t match, I’m droppin’ classics while you barely scratch. Your tracks like a coupon—expired and weak, I’m the main event, you the free trial sneak. Think you a DJ? But the crowd don’t move, I’m the rhythm, the bassline, the one they approve. You hype in the mirror, but it’s lonely at best, I’m the GOAT in the booth, you’re just pressin’ for “next.” I went light this time, just a flicker of flame, Left some bars on the shelf, outta mercy for your name. Next time I won’t stop, I’ll unleash the whole fight, So sharpen up, Mocha—this was barely a bite.
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