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Your hands feel bare, the fight’s not won.
Once you flexed with style so clean,
Now your loadout’s lost—what does it mean?
That Doppler shine, that crimson fade,
The way your gloves just matched your blade.
Gone are the days of flex and flair,
Now you’re stuck with default wear.
The rounds feel cold, the vibe is off,
Your empty hands, they make me scoff.
No Karambit spins, no Butterfly tricks,
Just factory skins—this ain't it, fix!
So, Code, it's time—let’s set things right,
Get your gear and grip it tight.
The game feels dull, the flex is low,
Bring back the drip—we need that glow!