Générateur de Diss Track IA Pro

Clock out early, claimin' so much credit,

Every line I build, you just wanna edit,

Try to deny every right that I plead,

But you can’t hide, yeah, I see you, thief,

Blocking my break but you’re first to leave,

Stealing my shine as you tuck up your sleeve.

You walk in late, and you still got a nerve,

Watchin’ my moves like that’s what you deserve,

Frown when I ask just to breathe, just to rest,

But you out the door way before all the rest.

Every report stamped with your name on top,

While I grind the gears, you just skirt and hop.

Vacay denied while your trip's in the sand,

My work in your hand, but you take the grandstand.

High-pressure meetings, drama that spins,

You only jump in when the victory wins,

Every idea I drop—you just remix and blend,

Act so polite, but you fake as a friend.

Giving false praise while you harvest the seed,

Harvest my labor, yeah, you’re quick to concede.

Clock out early, claimin' so much credit,

Every line I build, you just wanna edit,

Try to deny every right that I plead,

But you can’t hide, yeah, I see you, thief,

Blocking my break but you’re first to leave,

Stealing my shine as you tuck up your sleeve.

You play the boss, but your hustle is thin,

Out for applause while I’m caged within,

Jackin’ ideas with a permanent smirk,

Leaving me buried in piles of work.

Say you under pressure, but ain’t feeling the heat,

Got shoes so clean but your methods ain’t neat.

You call the shots, but you never explain,

Throw out my balance, you’re driving insane,

Caught in your trap, trying to escape,

But you set the locks, always reshaping the shape.

I know your game, and I mark every move,

One day you’ll trip on the lies you approve.

Mirrors don’t lie, no disguise for a thief,

Truth peeks out from behind every brief,

Keep dancing out early, like you’re so unique,

But I’m keeping score—this pen’s for critique.

So keep on running, but you can’t delete,

The footprints you left all over my beat,

Credit thief in a suit—one day you’ll see,

The work that you stole? That returns back to me.

Yo, turn his mic down, man, for real

Ayo, check it

You got no kills, but your mouth got a kill streak,

Click that respawn, die quick, every damn week.

Zero on the board, still actin' like a hero,

Run into the smoke—next frame, he's a zero.

All that tough talk, ain't backin' up shit,

Whole squad push, you laggin', catch a glitch.

This punk never hits, just blames the whole map,

Spectatin’ the lobby, always playin’ mishaps.

Screamin' through the headset, spittin' all that trash,

While your K/D lookin' like a car crash.

Never clutch up, just crash out, actin' bold,

Blamin’ everybody 'round, while your streak stay cold.

You talk like a god, but die like a zero,

Actin' all hype, but you far from a hero.

Voice loud as fuck, but your plays straight trash,

Log in, crash out, watch your ego smash.

Zero on the stat sheet, zero in your clip,

Talkin’ moonshot dreams, but you never hit shit.

You ain’t carryin’ nothin’, but complaints and a grudge,

All bark, no bite—who let this bum judge?

We grind for the win, you a drag, deadweight,

Every round, every match, you seal our fate.

Try to call shots, but you never make none stick,

Got the map knowledge? Nah—you just make us sick.

Team needs a push, but you run the wrong way,

Always first to drop, then got sumthin' to say.

Tryna blame lag, but your skills don't compute,

Man, your aim lookin’ lost, like your momma's Bluetooth.

Ran outta patience, you ran outta luck,

Ain’t read the tutorial but tryna coach us up.

Talkin' like you clutch, but you fumble every bag,

Game chat hero, but your stats flag drag.

You crash and you burn, still actin’ like the boss,

Mouth loudest on the squad, but your game all loss.

Tryna bring us down, but you drag yourself lower,

Press F to pay respect to the team's worst thrower.

Ay, mute this clown, I'm done with the cap,

Skill so damn hollow, just echoes in the chat.

You zero in the game, noise maxed in the room,

Check the feed, that's your legacy: boom.