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Spain 
Their hollow victories, bringing only shame.
With walls and aimbots, they twist the fair fight,
Dimming the thrill of a well-earned delight.
They hide in the shadows, their integrity gone,
Destroying the battles, where skill should be drawn.
A headshot that’s cheap, a flick that’s too fast,
They tarnish the moments that should truly last.
The thrill of the match, the rush of the chase,
Wasted on cheaters who can’t keep the pace.
They take the high ground by walking the low,
Shameless in knowing they can’t truly grow.
In the depths of their cheats, they think they are kings,
But their hollow success is a bitter-sweet thing.
For a game that’s built on skill, trust, and fun,
Cheaters are nothing when the battle’s won.
So here’s to the players who play with their heart,
Who face every challenge and master each part.
For cheaters will fade, as all fakes do in time,
And true legends will always rise to their prime.