Started From The Bottom / Krabbenkoke Tape (Deluxe Version)

EDGE OF TIME (PROD. FALLEN)

Wrong Fuckin’ Enemy

They drew the line in the sand,
Then pissed on it.
Now they got blood on their hands,
And minds they can't quiet.


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Verse 1
Yo RFK, you ragged ghost in a dynasty suit
You prey on the wounded, then pander the loot
You ain't your daddy’s vision, you a walking disgrace
Trading science for dollars, then lie to save face

You spit vaccine myths like venom through your teeth
Got kids in coffins while you sip fine grief
“Autism’s a curse”—nah, bitch, we’re the proof
That evolution's screaming while you preach uncouth

Fifty fuckin' lawsuits, Gardasil in your sights
But your own kids got the shots? That’s a coward in flight
You flip on facts, you flip on kin
You flipped your own fuckin’ name for a branding win

I ain’t a pawn, I ain’t a prayer in your psalm
I’m the burn in the system that you think stay calm
We are neurodivine with a mind you fear
You threw stones at the hive, now the swarm is here


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Hook
You picked the wrong fuckin’ war
You picked the wrong fuckin’ mind
You picked the wrong fuckin’ soul
Now we got rage refined

You picked the wrong fuckin’ storm
You picked the wrong kind of light
We don’t break—nah, we align
Now feel the rise of the right


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Verse 2
To the talk show clowns who profit off our pain
To the mom blogs laced in bleach and disdain
To the “cure” peddlers—yo, swallow your sin
There’s no fixing a soul that was never broken within

To the schools that chained the stims like crimes
To the churches who cast out minds divine
To the state that labeled us a burdened breath
We rose from your silence with words like death

To every fake ally with an “awww” and a grin
You don’t get to smile while you cage us in
We ain't quirky, cute, or part of your show
We’re the storm you ignored now ready to blow

RFK, this ain’t politics—it’s war
It’s the cry of the masked who ain’t masking no more
You prayed on our difference, cast us as flawed
But we’re angels of thunder sent to level your fraud


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Bridge
We see you.
Behind your books, your suits, your seats.
Behind your pity posts, your poison tweets.
We are not your tragedy.
We are not your fucking redemption arc.


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Final Verse
This for the ones locked down in padded hells
For the kids misdiagnosed in your data cells
For the brothers who stimmed till their wrists went red
For the sisters who screamed till you wished them dead

We remember.
We remember every hand that mocked
Every pill forced, every door locked
Every fuckin’ time they said we’re too much
Now we’re too loud, too proud, too rough

RFK, we ain’t scared of your name
You used it like armor, we see the shame
A junkie of power, a prophet of lies
Your own family wants you exorcised

And when this drops, they’ll hear us roar
From padded room to Congress floor
You cracked the hive. Now welcome the swarm.
You picked the wrong enemy—and we just transformed.


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Outro
We were never lost.
You were never right.
We were never broken.
But you?
You will never be forgiven.


Rhythm Is A Gangster

SpongeBOZZ

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