Ask AI: Can you write a 3 minute dd Osama diss rap type lyrics on kayflock the rapper

Alright, here's a set of diss rap lyrics styled to fit a 3-minute track, inspired by DD Osama's style, targeting the rapper Kay Flock. Keep in mind that this is purely for creative purposes and not meant to promote any real-life conflict or negativity. --- (Verse 1) Yo, Kay Flock, you ain't got the same block, Claiming you the king, but you barely make a bang, stop. Talkin' 'bout the streets like you really been around, But we know it's all cap, you just playin' for the crowd. You flashin' all that ice, but ain't earnin' no respect, Bet your crew sees through you, keepin' you in check. Your rhymes be basic, flow's tired and lame, Fakin' like you big-time, boy, stay in your lane. (Chorus) Kay Flock, you ain't hot, just another name to flop, Talkin' all that mess, but you ain't got a single bop. Street cred's a joke, boy, you better stop, 'Fore you catch the heat, get cooked, and drop. (Verse 2) Heard you talkin' tough, but I've never seen you ride, When it's time to put in work, you just run and hide. You live for the 'Gram, postin' pics like a fool, While we movin' in silence, boy, that's how we rule. Your squad's full of clowns, frontin' like they loyal, But they'd flip on you quick, once it gets real loyal. Your tracks be fillers, no substance, no heat, While I'm climbing charts, you stay stuck on repeat. (Chorus) Kay Flock, you ain't hot, just another name to flop, Talkin' all that mess, but you ain't got a single bop. Street cred's a joke, boy, you better stop, 'Fore you catch the heat, get cooked, and drop. (Bridge) Think you hard 'cause you rap 'bout the struggle? I see through your act, all you do is fumble. Real ones out here, making moves in the shadows, While you just pretend, life ain't nothing but a battle. (Verse 3) You can’t keep up, Flock, you’re laggin' behind, In this race to the top, you ain’t even in line. Your dreams of the throne, they just fade in the mist, While I carve out my legacy with every hit. Let me teach you a lesson, get your bars in check, ‘Cause right now you’re lookin’ like a washed-up wreck. You ain’t a menace, you ain’t a threat, When they mention the game, they won’t remember you, bet. (Chorus) Kay Flock, you ain't hot, just another name to flop, Talkin' all that mess, but you ain't got a single bop. Street cred's a joke, boy, you better stop, 'Fore you catch the heat, get cooked, and drop. (Outro) So keep talkin' big, but you ain’t in this league, Stay playin’ pretend, we know who’s real, indeed. This the last warning, Kay, you better sit down, Before you get erased, turned into a clown. ---