Ever seen a rave promoter try to act tough from a golf cart? It’s adorable. This song is dedicated to the ones who throw tantrums when someone questions their LED budget—or their mixtape. You know the type: claims they “came from nothing” but mysteriously owns five fog machines and a drone crew. If you’ve ever watched a grown man in a mesh tank top threaten legal action over a bad review, this one’s for you. Why do fake rappers always get louder when they forget their lyrics? Why do rave organizers think “emotional healing” means handing out Narcan and selling $15 bottled water? We’re not naming names, but if your DJ set includes more vape clouds than verses, you might be the reason this song exists. And if you’ve ever live-streamed your own meltdown while calling someone else dramatic, congratulations—you’ve unlocked the deluxe padded-wall remix. This isn’t beef. It’s tofu shaped like accountability. We’re not mad. We’re just bored. And when the glitter settles and the wristbands fade, all that’s left is a few broken speakers, one unpaid opener, and a chorus that still slaps harder than your last flyer campaign. Enjoy the tantrum. Just don’t try to freestyle over it. We’ve heard enough. And speaking of freestyles—why is it that the hardest “street” rappers always seem to have the police on speed dial? Whole careers built around loyalty, codes, and never folding… until their Wi-Fi beef escalates and they’re filing reports like Yelp reviews. They’ll throw up gang signs on TikTok and then tag their lawyer when someone claps back in a verse. No disrespect to the real ones. This just isn’t about them. It’s about the playlist warriors with suburban trauma and fabricated felonies. Then there’s the podcast prophets. Life coaches with no life. Shamans with Shopify links. People who can’t change a tire but want to teach you about “grit.” They cry about cancel culture while blocking everyone who doesn’t like their merch. They sell mantras with microplastic packaging. They do “shadow work” on stolen land with a drone overhead and a ring light in the bushes. We see you. You forgot to blur your reflection in the crystal bowl.