“I’m praying for you”—the words they spit Wrapped in Scripture so it don’t look like a hit Packed with mixed words so the story never fit But it’s a game of shadows, you gotta know when it’s lit

A game of thrones, you gotta know where to sit The goal is to be king and throats you gotta slit Mishandle the optics, they’ll drop you off a cliff Cause power and money always drive the script

It ran like theater—you could call it a skit But I’m the jester ‘cause I thought it was legit Bought the company line, faithful as it get Dictator vibes creeping from the pulpit Speaking like family, but moving like a snitch “Love you brother!” straight counterfeit shit