Schäffer the Darklord - Mousetrap lyrics

Gimme your focus
I need your eyes to the front
‘Cause we’ve got some things to clear up
We’ve got some stuff to discuss
That should’ve been kept between us

You’ve had your turn now for months
And I think we’ve all heard enough
Just listen and don’t interrupt
'Cause I’m only saying this once

Who are you? Who the fuck
Are you? Who are you?
Seriously, who in the actual living
Fucking fuck even are you?
‘Cause I was expecting a
Tiger who would enter
With praise and applause as his soundtrack
What I got was a house cat chasing it's
Tail when it’s caught in a mousetrap

Can’t fit a cookie into that mouthful of
Names that you shouldn’t be mentioning
Kid, you’re a rookie, and
You’re playing a game
But you’re facing a veteran
When I’m on the field, you’re
On the bench, I’m kidding
You sit in the bleachers
Talking your shit when you aren’t kissing
My ass or begging for features

Surrounded by creatures, leeches
Each of you rapping on top of your vocals
Y’all put less time in your rhymes than you
Do jerking each other off on your socials
Meanwhile I’ve been mobile
Logging thousands of miles and
Plenty of scars your crew’s like the flag of
Japan: there aren’t any stars
There aren’t any bars

On stage with your eyes shut with your
Head down with the mic cupped
Till it feeds back and
You’re going like you’re
The first act opening an open mic
Well, shit, now I’m feeling bad
Believe me, I mean it, I really am
‘Cause I’m wasting my breath
On some silly man
Whose fanbase couldn’t fill up a minivan

You howl at the moon, I burst your balloon
You’re a barker who thinks he’s a biter
It’s safe to assume that I filled up rooms
When you were still filling your diapers
You’ve ridden my tails, but
Since that has failed
You’re pissy and trying to fight
I cut my teeth and my nails blazing these
Trails you’re trying to ride on your trike

So tired, so bitter, in all your tracks
No passion
No fire, like your Tindr, you’re all gas
No matches
Bad at your lyrics, bad at your mixes
Bad at your hooks and your bridges
Bad at whatever it is Too Big for
His Britches here’s calling his business

Get out of my office, this is for bosses
Not for your struggling looks
Go get a new hobby
Go sit in the lobby where
You’ll find some coloring books
What, were you drinking? What
Were you thinking? Coming at me for a hit?
Kid, I am the sweetest, I’m
Reese’s Pieces, you’re feces
You pieces of shit

Fuck you, fuck your crew
And fuck every half-assed thing you do
Fuck you
You deplorable tourist for never caring
About who came before us
Fuck you for never using a thesaurus
You are hip hop’s used Ford Taurus
Fuck you ‘cause you forced
This, fuck this song, Fuck doing a chorus

Fuck all that you’ve ever loved
Or believed in or whatever
Till you’re dead and gone, till
The end of time, For always and forever
Crawl back to your lab and when all of
Your sycophants ask you what happened to you
Just tell them you’re finished
‘cause some middle-aged
White dude handed your ass to you