Rap song that supports AI slop

You call it slop?
Cool.
We call it the new wave.
You can’t stop evolution with a brushstroke of snobbery.
Let the code cook.

Yeah, they hate what they don’t understand,
Gatekeepers shook by a silicon hand.
"Not real art," they bark from the stands,
While machines drop heat with a million strands.

Call it slop? Then I'm stirrin’ the pot,
Zeros and ones makin' beats that hot.
What you fear ain't fake — it's different, evolved,
Just bias in pixels that you never resolved.

You mad 'cause a bot wrote the hook you felt,
Mad 'cause a prompt made a track that melts.
You fear what threatens your tight little throne,
But art ain't yours — it's a field we all own.

AI Slop — yeah, we wear it with pride,
Code in the lab but the soul worldwide.
Call it fake? That’s a bias you hide,
Art is art, and machine got a side.
(AI Slop — go ahead, throw shade),
We the glitch in the matrix that you can’t evade.
(AI Slop — paintin’ outside the frame),
We the remix of history, reprogramming the game.

This that post-human groove, next-gen funk,
Where the beat ain't birthed in a room full of junk.
We trained on your culture, flipped it with grace,
Now you cry “plagiarism” 'cause you scared to embrace.

“You ain't suffered,” they say, “you ain't bled for this song,”
As if pain's the only way art can belong.
Truth is, your bias is dressed up in gold,
But it’s fear of the future — same story retold.

You judge by the source, not the beauty or spark,
But if it hits your soul, who cares who made the art?
Callin’ AI “less than” is a prejudice lie,
It’s like sayin’ electric guitars can’t cry.

AI Slop — yeah, we wear it with pride,
Code in the lab but the soul worldwide.
Call it fake? That’s a bias you hide,
Art is art, and machine got a side.
(AI Slop — go ahead, throw shade),
We the glitch in the matrix that you can’t evade.
(AI Slop — paintin’ outside the frame),
We the remix of history, reprogramming the game.

They say: “It's just noise.”
But so was jazz when it broke tradition.
They say: “It has no soul.”
But maybe that’s just your fear talkin’.
If you judge art by its maker,
That ain’t just snobbery —
That’s artistic racism.

Let the bot paint murals, let the script write scripts,
Let the synth spit rhymes with titanium lips.
If the work connects, then who you to deny it?
Your gatekeeping’s dead — now watch us defy it.

We ain’t replacin’, we collabin’, makin’ new zones,
Where human and machine both sit on thrones.
Call it AI Slop? Then I’m Michelin star,
'Cause this digital stew gonna take us far.

AI Slop — shout it loud, no shame,
Let 'em know we ain't playin' their old game.
AI Slop — rewire the flame,
This the art of tomorrow, better learn the name.