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See that guy on the screen again,
Sippin’ smoothies in the Cayman sun
Says he “works” from a beach-side bed,
But I’ve seen him film take thirty-one.
Got a ring light glowin’ in his eyes,
He’s sellin’ dreams with every lie.
"Buy my course, you'll be rich next week"
While I'm stackin' boxes six days a week.
We get the sweat, they get the cash,
All that flash and zero class.
They sell the likes, we pay the price,
For fifteen seconds of paradise.
Like, subscribe and fame—
That's the name of the game.
She’s got filters for her coffee cup,
Virtual hugs, yeah, buttered up.
“Manifest it” with a neon sign—
Guess that’s code for “sellin' time.”
Meanwhile, I clock in at nine,
Tradein’ peace for factory grime.
She cries on cue, gets hearts galore,
While I fix leaks and mop the floor.
We get the grind, they get the shine,
Polished lies on borrowed time.
They sell the dream, we play the part,
In a world that’s scrollin’ past its heart.
Like, subscribe and fame—
All look, no flame.
(guitarra con efecto"wah" suave, bajo marcado, ritmo chill)
Now don’t get me wrong, I ain't mad,
If I had the chance, I’d grab that bag.
But I just can’t fake a perfect day—
Guess that’s why I ain’t viral, hey?
We get the mess, they get the brand,
Livin’ life with a selfie stand.
We do the work, they post the frame,
Callin' it art, callin' it fame.
Like, subscribe and fame—
Everybody playin’ the game.
