Fe’La has released “Dear Murkemz,” a direct diss record aimed at Murkemz—an artist widely regarded by fans as one of the biggest, if not the number-one, rappers in Arizona.
Released exclusively on Scrybe Streaming, the record moves past vague subliminals and challenges the authenticity behind Murkemz’s public image.
The song is structured like an open letter, beginning with Fe’La calmly addressing his target:
“Dear Murkemz, I hope this letter reaches you in time. I feel like I’m inclined to teach you.”
Rather than arguing that Murkemz cannot rap, Fe’La repeatedly acknowledges his talent. His accusation is that Murkemz is using that talent to portray a life he may not have lived.
“I feel like rhyming ’bout a life you don’t live is beneath you,” Fe’La says. “You gotta tap into your mind, and I’m here to show you how.”
That approach makes “Dear Murkemz” more intriguing than a simple collection of insults. Fe’La is not trying to dismiss Murkemz as an artist. He is attempting to separate Murkemz’s lyrical ability from the character presented in his music.
“I know you can rap, but maybe in this story you act,” he says.
Fe’La’s argument is that Murkemz did not need to create a street persona to make compelling music. In one of the song’s sharpest moments, he initially says, “You ain’t gotta have a struggle to rap,” before correcting himself:
“Matter of fact, I take that back. The hell, we all gotta struggle. I just hate to see you struggle with facts.”
The line captures the record’s central message. Fe’La is not claiming that only artists from the streets deserve to rap. He is arguing that every artist has a real story—and that Murkemz’s actual life should have been enough.
Fe’La then becomes more specific, questioning Murkemz’s accent, background and repeated references to weapons and drug dealing. These are allegations made within the diss record and have not been independently verified, but Fe’La presents them as evidence of a larger performance.
“Your accent ain’t even real, it’s an impression,” he raps. “It’s all deception.”
The criticism becomes even more personal when Fe’La claims Murkemz grew up in Arizona’s suburbs rather than the environment represented in his music.
“You been here since a pup. You grew up in the suburbs, a house and a truck.”
Fe’La contrasts that alleged image-building with his own approach to writing, delivering one of the record’s most memorable metaphors:
“I don’t regret none of my life, probably why I write everything in pen and not pencil.”
By the final section, the tone has shifted from advice to a direct attempt to dismantle Murkemz’s reputation. Fe’La reduces his criticism to four words: “No guns, just an image.”
Still, he leaves Murkemz an opportunity to answer.
“If I’m wrong, you can offer a correction,” Fe’La says.
That line may become the most important part of the record because it turns “Dear Murkemz” into an open challenge. Fe’La has made his accusations publicly and invited Murkemz to dispute them. The only question now is whether Arizona’s alleged number-one artist believes the record deserves a response.
Ignoring it could prevent Fe’La from receiving additional attention. Responding could ignite a full lyrical exchange capable of placing both artists—and Arizona hip-hop—under a much brighter spotlight.
For now, Fe’La has delivered the first letter.
“Dear Murkemz” is available exclusively on Scrybe Streaming.
Now Arizona waits to see if Murkemz writes back.
