Comprehensive Breakdown of Blaqbonez‘s “ACL” Track Lyrics
ACL, a powerful composition by Blaqbonez, delves into themes of authority, genuine self-expression, and a candid critique of the phony characters saturating the modern music scene. This song positions Blaqbonez as the original template-a benchmark many aspire to but few truly achieve. With unfiltered honesty, he calls out struggling rappers, social media fame seekers, and pretenders within the industry. Through incisive lyricism and a commanding presence, “ACL” unapologetically exposes hypocrisy, underscores Blaqbonez’s unique style, and serves as a caution to those aiming to reach his stature.
Blaqbonez – ACL Lyrics
Relax, everything is perfectly managed
Relax, everything is perfectly managed
Relax, no need to stress
Listen closely
It’s widely known I’m the original design, they all want to be me, that’s the buzz
But they can’t replicate my energy, they’re missing the essence, Nabania
They claim to be AC, yet their flow can’t compare to Blaq’s
Failed artists turned into online critics
Anti-World? More like anti-progress
They’re stuck in one place, maybe they need support
They can’t even be honest with their crew, selling out for quick cash
Where will they lay their heads if they admit their music is weak?
I’ve been pulling the strings, directing the game to my advantage
When I need hype, they pretend to be my team
So many deluded ones thinking they’re kings, but they’re just pawns
I make a move, watch how their tongues start wagging
I don’t battle like Eden Hazard, but they know my rules
She still has flashbacks, so I flash cash, summer vibes I shower on that girl
I’m on fire, dropping hits one after another, hmm yeah
Pure and raw, we know they add fillers, huh
When I step out, I’m solid like The Rock, presidential, huh
Rollie presidential (Huh)
I’m monumental (Huh)
Who are they? What are they?
Just irrelevant clowns (Huh)
A bunch of weak rappers who dropped out before high school, huh
Everyone knows I’m the original design, they all want to be me, that’s the buzz
But they can’t match my style, they lack the core, Nabania
They claim to be AC, but their flow doesn’t hold up to Blaq’s
Failed rappers turned into keyboard warriors
Anti-World? More like anti-evolution
They’re stuck in place, maybe they need a walker
Can’t even be truthful with their circle, selling out for quick money
Where will they crash tonight if they admit their music is trash?
All that fake confidence they build will soon crumble
They’re running on empty trying to rap with me, the MACHINE will shut them down soon
Let them stick to their party anthems
Let them hit those high notes, like Johnny Gill
Let them brown-nose everyone, like desperate fans
Wherever there’s a pretty face, they’re lurking
Lift them up, lift them up, but the MACHINE is glitching
It’ll need a reboot, someone about to turn 50
Used to be the man, Bobrisky
Now he’s faded, done
Every day it’s all about Blaq, he’s tweeting nonstop
Wherever clout is, you’ll find him
Old man, all you want is recognition
People might think he’s endorsing them
But he’s just riding their wave
End of the month, Elon Musk will pay
Wait, another DOG EAT DOG? Toss that nonsense in the bin
Everyone knows I’m the original design, they all want to be me, that’s the buzz
But they can’t match my style, they lack the essence, Nabania
They claim to be AC, but their flow can’t compare to Blaq’s
Failed rappers turned into keyboard warriors
Anti-World? More like anti-progress
They’re stuck in place, maybe they need a mobility aid
Can’t even be honest with their crew, selling out for a new paycheck
Where will they crash tonight if they admit their music is trash?
He’s lurking in DMs before dawn, offering favors
He loves me, hates me, wants to end me, risking stability
Remember the idea I shared? It was dismissed, I was trying to help
If you trust me, then I’m your faith
If it were 2019, I’d be posting memes and jokes
But I had to mature, become a veteran
Leave a legacy for the youth, let my work speak
The lines on your face should show where I’m headed
Credit where it’s due, thank you
Because you showed me who I never wanted to become
Charli, Constantino, Missy, Margiela, I’m front row
I stay sharp like a pilot, your belly looks like you swallowed a pen
I’m still number one, with tastes as refined as stylists
Don’t risk tearing your ACL trying to match this vibe
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