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Look, I'm gonna keep spitting these bars MY way, you feel me? Critics wanna run their mouth, that's cool, that's whatever. But I'm still here, still doing MY thing, still making it happen while they just talking. That's the difference right there.

Look at these voices inside my head, man, they're screaming again. Telling me stuff that I shouldn't have said, but I said it anyway. Guess I'm just wired this way, brain's like a grenade with the pin pulled away. Yeah, whatever, let it spray.

Look, they tried to bury the monster again, but you can't stop the flow when it's this potent. They want the old Slim, the cold Slim, the one who doesn't care about your feelings. I'm back in the booth, dropping the truth, because the world is just too boring without me.

Look, I don't give a fuck what these critics say about my music, that's fine. They can keep running their mouths all day long, but guess what? I'm gonna keep spitting these bars my way, and that's just how it is, period.

Listen, I'm spitting syllables, ridiculous individuals try to get critical, while I'm flipping these visuals, living proof that I'm criminal with the lyrical, minimal effort but I'm killing you all digitally, metaphorically, literally, call it what you want but I'm winning, see.

Listen up motherfuckers think they got the skill to step to me but ain't got half the ill that I spit rapidly, mentally you ain't ready see, I'm dropping bombs strategically while you're just screaming pathetically, trying to battle me unsuccessfully.

Look, I've been through hell and back, scratching and clawing my way through the rap game. They said I wouldn't make it, tried to box me in. But I'm still here, still spitting fire, still making them uncomfortable. That's what real art's about.

Look at these critics trying to silence me, but I'm still here spitting these lyrics viciously. You thought you could break me down mentally, but I'm rising exponentially, systematically dismantling every enemy. Watch me climb while you're whining, I'm designing my own timing.