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Bad Bitch

Boys be saying they love you,
Don’t want to hurt you,
While expanding their haraam—
Feeding their egos with borrowed charm.
They speak of promises with slippery tongues,
Yet choose to rank you like some coded run,
A random key-value pair,
In their scandalous dictionary, without a care.

And when they’re done with their sad itch,
Suddenly, you’re the bad bitch.
They say there are plenty of fish in the sea,
Better back off, or I will gut you for free.
Their flattery’s fleeting, a game to appease,
But I’m not just a player; I’m the queen of the keys.
No more playing nice or giving you grace,
I’ll flip the script, put you back in your place.
Not someone who wants to be chased,
I’m the storm you’ll regret, a force you can’t erase.
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