Скачать или смотреть Sad Machine- Meta clone

[Verse]
Fiend Smith, just a jokester stack,
Meta rider, thousand-dollar teck.
Predictable plays, nothin' to boast,
Everybody yawning, why you doin' the most?

[Verse 2]
Championship flex, ain't worth respect,
Same tired deck, what's next to expect?
Clones in the tourney, all look the same,
You ain't special, it's a carbon copy game.

[Chorus]
Fiend Smith's lament, another meta clone,
Hundred bucks for the cards, all alone.
No excitement in your wins, no fire,
Tired of your style, hit the retire.

[Verse 3]
Trophy in hand, but not from skill,
Just buying wins, got no thrill.
Rest of us grind, we hustle and play,
You swipe that plastic, it's a price you pay.

[Verse 4]
Copycat style, zero innovation,
Play-by-numbers, no imagination.
Deck builds copy-pasted from a guide,
Originality gone, just a hollow pride.