250+ Good Roasts for Fake Friends That Make You Laugh

Discover 250+ good roasts for fake friends that cut deep and make you laugh, perfect for calling out two-faced behavior with witty, savage burns.

These hilarious clapbacks will leave them speechless while keeping the vibe playful in any group chat or casual moment.

Table of Contents

Good Roasts for Fake Friends That Cut Deep and Make You Laugh

Roasts for Two-Faced Behavior

Your loyalty switches faster than a bad Wi-Fi signal. Pick a side already.
You’re so two-faced, even your mirror gets confused looking at you.
Your friendship’s like a coin—two sides, but neither’s worth much.
You talk behind my back so much, you must have a PhD in shade.
Your face changes more than a chameleon in a paint store.
You’re a pro at smiling to my face and stabbing my back.
Your loyalty’s like a revolving door—spinning but going nowhere.
You’ve got more faces than a reality show cast. Pick one.
You’re so fake, even your shadow doesn’t trust you.
Your friendship’s a mask, but it’s slipping big time.

Roasts for Flaky Plans

Your plans cancel faster than a cheap airline flight. Stay grounded.
You flake so much, you’re basically a cereal box.
Your commitment’s like a ghost—disappears when I need it.
You cancel plans so often, I’m booking you for absence.
Your RSVPs are as reliable as a weather forecast in a storm.
You flake more than dandruff in winter. Brush it off.
Your plans vanish quicker than my patience with you.
You’re so flaky, you make pastries look dependable.
Your cancellations are so frequent, I’m saving a seat for your excuses.
You bail so much, I’m calling you the escape artist.

Roasts for Gossiping Fakes

Your gossip spreads faster than a wildfire in a dry forest.
You talk so much trash, you’re basically a landfill spokesperson.
Your mouth’s a rumor mill, but it’s grinding out lies.
You gossip like it’s your job, but you’re not getting paid.
Your stories spread quicker than a cold in a classroom.
You’re so good at gossip, you should start a shady newsletter.
Your tongue’s wagging more than a dog at a park.
You spread rumors like they’re free samples at a food court.
Your gossip’s so wild, even tabloids can’t keep up.
You talk behind backs like it’s an Olympic sport.

Roasts for Fake Loyalty

Your loyalty’s like a paper towel—used once and tossed.
You’re so disloyal, even your dog would ditch you.
Your friendship’s like a knockoff brand—cheap and unreliable.
You switch sides faster than a politician in an election.
Your loyalty’s so shaky, it’s on the fault line.
You’re loyal until the spotlight moves, then you’re gone.
Your friendship’s like a bad lease—full of hidden clauses.
You’re so fake, even your promises come with an expiration date.
Your loyalty’s like a cracked phone screen—barely holding up.
You’re loyal until someone shinier shows up. Classic.

Roasts for Attention-Seeking Fakes

You chase clout like it’s the last bus out of town.
Your drama’s so loud, it drowns out actual emergencies.
You crave attention more than a puppy at a pet store.
Your life’s a stage, but nobody’s buying tickets.
You’re so extra, you make reality TV look chill.
Your need for attention’s louder than a car alarm at midnight.
You fish for compliments harder than a boat in a storm.
Your drama’s so big, it needs its own zip code.
You’re always center stage, but the audience is leaving.
Your clout-chasing’s so obvious, it’s practically a neon sign.

Roasts for Fake Support

Your support’s like a broken chair—looks nice but collapses.
You cheer me on like a fan with a dead battery.
Your encouragement’s so fake, it’s got a made-in-China tag.
You’re there for me like a shadow in a storm—gone.
Your support’s as real as a mirage in the desert.
You’re all talk when I need you, but nowhere when I fall.
Your hype’s so empty, it echoes like a ghost town.
You’re my cheerleader, but you forgot the pom-poms.
Your support’s like a bad app—crashes when I need it.
You’re there for me, but only when the camera’s rolling.

Roasts for Borrowing Fakes

You borrow my stuff like it’s a free thrift store.
Your hands are stickier than a kid in a candy shop.
You take my things and act like it’s a community closet.
You borrow so much, I’m putting a loan shark on speed dial.
Your borrowing’s so bad, you owe me interest now.
You take my stuff like it’s a Black Friday sale.
Your “borrowing” is just stealing with extra steps.
You’re so good at taking, you should open a pawn shop.
You borrow my gear and forget me like a bad debt.
Your hands are faster than a pickpocket in a crowd.

Roasts for Fake Apologies

Your apologies are faker than a three-dollar bill.
You say sorry like it’s a script you didn’t rehearse.
Your “I’m sorry” is as real as a unicorn sighting.
You apologize so poorly, even your excuses blush.
Your sorries are like bad Wi-Fi—weak and unreliable.
You say sorry, but your actions are yelling “whatever.”
Your apologies are so hollow, they echo in the room.
You’re sorry? Tell that to the mirror, it might believe you.
Your apologies are like knockoff shoes—cheap and flimsy.
You say sorry, but it’s as genuine as plastic fruit.

Roasts for Social Climbers

You climb social ladders faster than a squirrel up a tree.
Your friendship’s a stepping stone to your next VIP list.
You network so hard, you forgot what real friends are.
You’re climbing so fast, you’re leaving skid marks.
Your loyalty shifts with whoever’s got the most clout.
You’re so fake, you’d ditch me for a better Instagram follow.
Your friendships are just rungs on your social ladder.
You chase status like it’s the last slice of pizza.
You’re always eyeing the next big name to latch onto.
Your friend game’s weaker than your Wi-Fi at a party.

Roasts for Fake Vibes

Your vibe’s so fake, it’s got a “made in nowhere” label.
You’re all sunshine until the clouds roll in, then poof.
Your energy’s faker than a spray tan in winter.
You’re so fake, even your good vibes feel scripted.
Your positivity’s like a bad filter—hiding the real you.
You’re all smiles, but your vibe’s screaming “fake.”
Your cool act’s so forced, it’s giving me secondhand cringe.
You’re faker than a knockoff designer bag at a flea market.
Your vibes are so off, even my dog’s side-eyeing you.
You’re all good vibes until it’s time to show up.

Roasts for Ghosting Fakes

You ghost faster than a haunted house at midnight.
Your disappearing act’s so good, you should join a circus.
You vanish like my phone battery at 1%—poof, gone.
Your ghosting skills are sharper than a ninja’s blade.
You dip out so fast, I’m calling you Houdini.
Your absence is louder than your fake promises.
You ghost me like I’m a bad Tinder match.
Your disappearing’s so slick, you’re practically invisible.
You vanish quicker than free food at a party.
Your ghosting’s so pro, you deserve a Casper award.

Roasts for Fake Compliments

Your compliments are faker than a reality show script.
You praise me like a used car salesman pushing a lemon.
Your sweet talk’s so fake, it’s giving me cavities.
You’re all compliments until I turn my back, huh?
Your flattery’s as real as a plastic trophy.
You throw compliments like they’re expired coupons.
Your praise is so hollow, it echoes when you speak.
You’re so fake, even your compliments need a fact-check.
Your kind words are as genuine as a knockoff Rolex.
You compliment me like it’s a chore on your to-do list.

Roasts for Betraying Fakes

Your loyalty’s so weak, it’s got trust issues with itself.
You stab backs so often, you must own a knife collection.
Your betrayal’s so slick, you’re basically a double agent.
You’re so fake, you’d sell me out for a free coffee.
Your trust is shakier than a house of cards in a storm.
You betray like it’s your side hustle. Impressive.
Your loyalty’s like a bad app—crashes under pressure.
You’re so two-faced, you’d betray your own reflection.
Your backstabbing’s so good, you’re a professional snake.
You ditch trust faster than a bad date at a buffet.

Roasts for Fake Promises

Your promises are emptier than a deserted parking lot.
You make vows like a politician—big talk, no follow-through.
Your word’s as solid as a sandcastle at high tide.
You promise so much, I’m waiting for the fine print.
Your commitments are faker than a movie set facade.
You’re all talk, but your actions are on mute.
Your promises are like bad checks—they always bounce.
You make plans like they’re optional side quests.
Your word’s so weak, it needs a gym membership.
You promise big, but deliver like a budget airline.

Roasts for Selfish Fakes

You’re so selfish, you’d steal the spotlight from a firefly.
Your friendship’s a one-way street, and I’m not on it.
You care about me as much as a cat cares about rules.
You’re so self-centered, you think the world spins for you.
Your vibe’s all “me, me, me”—where’s my invite?
You’re selfish enough to hog the sun in a heatwave.
Your friendship’s like a solo game—you play alone.
You care so little, you make a rock look empathetic.
You’re so self-absorbed, you’d mirror-gaze during a crisis.
Your priorities scream “me first,” but I’m not your fan.

Roasts for Fake Tears

Your crocodile tears are faker than a soap opera scene.
You cry so fake, even onions wouldn’t buy it.
Your sob story’s got more plot holes than a bad movie.
You’re so dramatic, your tears deserve an Oscar for fiction.
Your crying’s faker than a reality star’s breakdown.
You shed tears like a sprinkler with a broken valve.
Your fake sobs are louder than a toddler’s tantrum.
You cry so fake, even your tissues are unimpressed.
Your tears are as real as a unicorn’s selfie.
You’re so dramatic, your sadness needs a scriptwriter.

Roasts for Fake Coolness

Your cool act’s so forced, it’s giving me secondhand cringe.
You’re trying so hard to be cool, you forgot to be real.
Your vibe’s faker than a wannabe influencer’s aesthetic.
You’re so “cool,” even ice cubes are rolling their eyes.
Your swagger’s as real as a knockoff designer bag.
You’re trying to be cool, but you’re just a warm mess.
Your coolness is so fake, it’s got a “made in nowhere” tag.
You act cool, but your vibe’s screaming “try-hard.”
Your style’s so forced, it’s like a bad costume party.
You’re so fake-cool, even sunglasses can’t save you.

Roasts for Fake Helpfulness

Your help’s so fake, it’s like offering air to a drowning man.
You’re there for me like a broken umbrella in a storm.
Your “help” is as useful as a screen door on a submarine.
You offer support like a chair with three legs—useless.
Your helpfulness is faker than a politician’s smile.
You’re so unhelpful, you make a rock look supportive.
Your “I got you” is as real as a fairy tale ending.
You help like a GPS with no signal—totally lost.
Your support’s so fake, it’s got a “return to sender” stamp.
You’re there for me, but only when it’s convenient.

Roasts for Fake Excuses

Your excuses are flimsier than a paper towel in a hurricane.
You’ve got more alibis than a bad detective novel.
Your reasons are so fake, they’re printed on Monopoly money.
You make excuses faster than a kid avoiding homework.
Your “reasons” are as real as a sci-fi plot twist.
You’re so good at excuses, you should teach a masterclass.
Your alibis are weaker than decaf coffee at dawn.
You dodge blame like a pro, but your excuses flop.
Your reasons are so fake, they need a reality check.
Your excuses are lamer than a three-legged race.

Roasts for Fake Confidence

Your confidence is faker than a knockoff Rolex ticking.
You act bold, but your vibe’s screaming “insecure.”
Your swagger’s so forced, it’s tripping over itself.
You’re so fake-confident, even your ego’s embarrassed.
Your boldness is as real as a plastic trophy’s shine.
You strut like a peacock, but your feathers are fake.
Your confidence is so shaky, it needs training wheels.
You’re all bravado, but your vibe’s pure hot air.
Your bold act’s so fake, it’s fooling nobody but you.
You’re so confident, but it’s just a bad costume.

Roasts for Fake Generosity

Your generosity’s so fake, it’s got a “no refunds” policy.
You’re generous like a vending machine that eats coins.
Your giving’s as real as a mirage in the desert.
You share like a kid hoarding candy on Halloween.
Your “kindness” is faker than a clearance sale sign.
You’re so stingy, you make Scrooge look charitable.
Your generosity’s so fake, it’s got a warranty void.
You give like a broken ATM—nothing comes out.
Your “sharing” is as real as a fairy tale treasure.
You’re generous, but only when the spotlight’s on.

Roasts for Fake Interest

Your interest in me is faker than a tabloid headline.
You pretend to care like a bad actor in a rom-com.
Your “I’m listening” face is as real as a wax figure.
You’re so fake, even your nods look rehearsed.
Your interest’s like a bad signal—fading fast.
You act invested, but your eyes are on airplane mode.
Your “care” is as genuine as a spam email.
You’re so uninterested, you make a brick wall engaging.
Your fake attention’s weaker than a dead phone battery.
You listen like a radio tuned to static.

Roasts for Fake Friendship Goals

Your friendship’s so fake, it’s got a “best before” date.
You’re my “BFF” until a better option walks by.
Your friend vibes are faker than a staged photo shoot.
You’re all about “squad goals” until I need you.
Your friendship’s like a bad app—full of glitches.
You’re my “ride or die” until the ride gets bumpy.
Your friend act’s so fake, it’s got a director’s cut.
You’re all about “goals” until loyalty’s required.
Your friendship’s faker than a filtered selfie.
You’re my “bestie,” but only for the highlight reel.

Roasts for Fake Humility

Your humility’s so fake, it’s got a spotlight on it.
You act humble, but your ego’s stealing the show.
Your modesty’s faker than a clearance rack crown.
You’re so “humble,” you’re basically shouting it.
Your low-key act’s as real as a plastic diamond.
You play humble like a peacock hiding its feathers.
Your modesty’s so fake, it’s got a laugh track.
You’re “humble,” but your ego’s got its own zip code.
Your fake humility’s louder than a bad karaoke night.
You act chill, but your ego’s screaming for attention.

Roasts for General Fakeness

You’re so fake, you make Barbie look authentic.
Your whole vibe’s faker than a knockoff purse.
You’re so two-faced, you’re practically a coin flip.
Your fakeness is so loud, it’s drowning out reality.
You’re faker than a movie set in a ghost town.
Your authenticity’s as real as a fairy tale dragon.
You’re so fake, even your shadow’s second-guessing you.
Your vibe’s faker than a bad Photoshop job.
You’re so inauthentic, you make plastic look real.
Your fakeness is so epic, it deserves a sequel.

Why These Roasts Shine

Nailing the Funny, Savage Tone

Roasts like “Your loyalty switches faster than a bad Wi-Fi signal. Pick a side already” and “You flake so much, you’re basically a cereal box” deliver sharp, hilarious burns that sting fake friends while keeping it playful.

Matching the Context

For two-faced behavior, use “Your loyalty switches faster than a bad Wi-Fi signal. Pick a side already.” For flaky friends, try “You flake so much, you’re basically a cereal box.” For gossipers, go “Your gossip spreads faster than a wildfire in a dry forest.”

Timing for Maximum Impact

Drop “Your loyalty switches faster than a bad Wi-Fi signal. Pick a side already” in a group chat for instant laughs. Use “You flake so much, you’re basically a cereal box” when they cancel plans again. Try “Your gossip spreads faster than a wildfire in a dry forest” during a gossip session for a savage hit.

Keeping It Engaging

Avoid weak roasts like “You’re fake.” Go for “Your loyalty switches faster than a bad Wi-Fi signal. Pick a side already” or “You flake so much, you’re basically a cereal box” to keep the vibe sharp and funny.

Personalizing the Roast

For backstabbers, use “Your loyalty switches faster than a bad Wi-Fi signal. Pick a side already.” For flaky friends, try “You flake so much, you’re basically a cereal box.” For gossipers, go “Your gossip spreads faster than a wildfire in a dry forest.”

Delivery Tips

Pair “Your loyalty switches faster than a bad Wi-Fi signal. Pick a side already” with a sly grin for impact. Use “You flake so much, you’re basically a cereal box” with a playful eye-roll for humor. Drop “Your gossip spreads faster than a wildfire in a dry forest” with a teasing tone for maximum sting.

Interaction Context

For two-faced moments, “Your loyalty switches faster than a bad Wi-Fi signal. Pick a side already” hits hard. For cancellations, “You flake so much, you’re basically a cereal box” shines. For gossip, “Your gossip spreads faster than a wildfire in a dry forest” is perfect.

Evolving Your Roasts

Don’t repeat “You’re not real.” Switch to “Your loyalty switches faster than a bad Wi-Fi signal. Pick a side already” or “You flake so much, you’re basically a cereal box” to keep roasts fresh and savage.

Handling Key Moments

During a shady moment, use “Your loyalty switches faster than a bad Wi-Fi signal. Pick a side already” for a sharp clapback. When they flake, try “You flake so much, you’re basically a cereal box” for humor. For gossip, go “Your gossip spreads faster than a wildfire in a dry forest.”

Avoiding Weak Roasts

Skip dull lines like “Stop being fake.” Use “Your loyalty switches faster than a bad Wi-Fi signal. Pick a side already” or “You flake so much, you’re basically a cereal box” for vibrant, funny burns.

Teaching Roast Mastery

Model “Your loyalty switches faster than a bad Wi-Fi signal. Pick a side already” to show savage delivery. Share “You flake so much, you’re basically a cereal box” to teach playful humor.

When to Keep It Short

For quick impact, use “You’re so fake, even your shadow doesn’t trust you” or “You flake so much, you’re basically a cereal box” for concise, sharp roasts.

Bonus Content: Extra Roast Ammo

5 Scenarios for Using Roasts

Two-Faced Moment: Use “Your loyalty switches faster than a bad Wi-Fi signal. Pick a side already” for a savage callout.
Flaky Cancellation: Try “You flake so much, you’re basically a cereal box” for a funny burn.
Gossip Session: Go “Your gossip spreads faster than a wildfire in a dry forest” for a sharp jab.
Attention-Seeking Drama: Use “You chase clout like it’s the last bus out of town” for a witty hit.
Fake Support: Drop “Your support’s like a broken chair—looks nice but collapses” for a clever roast.

5 Ways to Elevate Your Roasts

Add Savage Flair: Use “Your loyalty switches faster than a bad Wi-Fi signal. Pick a side already” for sharp impact.
Match the Moment: Two-faced? Go “Your loyalty switches faster than a bad Wi-Fi signal. Pick a side already.” Flaky? Try “You flake so much, you’re basically a cereal box.” Gossipy? Use “Your gossip spreads faster than a wildfire in a dry forest.”
Deliver with Vibe: Drop “Your loyalty switches faster than a bad Wi-Fi signal. Pick a side already” with a sly smirk.
Stay Playful and Sharp: Pair “You flake so much, you’re basically a cereal box” or “Your gossip spreads faster than a wildfire in a dry forest” with the right context.
Be Memorable: Use “You flake so much, you’re basically a cereal box” for lasting laughs.

5 Roasts to Avoid

Too Harsh: “You’re a terrible friend” sounds mean; use “Your loyalty switches faster than a bad Wi-Fi signal. Pick a side already” instead.
Too Bland: “You’re fake” flops; try “You flake so much, you’re basically a cereal box.”
Too Generic: “Stop it” bores; go “Your gossip spreads faster than a wildfire in a dry forest.”
Too Flat: “You’re not nice” stalls; use “Your support’s like a broken chair—looks nice but collapses.”
Too Plain: “Be real” fizzles; try “You’re so fake, even your shadow doesn’t trust you.”

5 Follow-Up Actions to Stay Playful

Drop “Your loyalty switches faster than a bad Wi-Fi signal. Pick a side already” in a group chat for instant laughs.
Use “You flake so much, you’re basically a cereal box” when they cancel for a playful jab.
Share “Your gossip spreads faster than a wildfire in a dry forest” during a shady moment for impact.
Journal a favorite roast to reuse for the right moment.
Pair a roast with a playful tone to keep the vibe light and fun.

5 Tips for Crafting Your Own Roasts

Stay Savage: Use “Your loyalty switches faster than a bad Wi-Fi signal. Pick a side already” for witty inspiration.
Be Concise: Try “You flake so much, you’re basically a cereal box” for quick impact.
Keep It Playful: Roasts like “Your gossip spreads faster than a wildfire in a dry forest” (1-2 sentences) sting but stay fun.
Match the Context: Two-faced? Go “Your loyalty switches faster than a bad Wi-Fi signal. Pick a side already.” Flaky? Try “You flake so much, you’re basically a cereal box.” Gossipy? Use “Your gossip spreads faster than a wildfire in a dry forest.”
Spark Laughter: Add “Pair a roast with a playful tone to keep the vibe fun” to stay hilarious.

Conclusion

From calling out two-faced behavior to shutting down flaky plans, these 250+ good roasts for fake friends deliver savage, funny burns that cut deep while keeping it playful. Perfect for group chats, texts, or casual clapbacks, they’ll leave fake friends stunned and everyone else laughing. Want more witty comebacks? Check out our other guides for fresh inspiration!

FAQs

Q. How do I pick a roast for a two-faced friend?
Use “Your loyalty switches faster than a bad Wi-Fi signal. Pick a side already” for a sharp callout.
Q. What’s a good roast for a flaky friend?
Try “You flake so much, you’re basically a cereal box” for a funny burn.
Q. Can these roasts work in group chats?
Yes! Use “Your gossip spreads faster than a wildfire in a dry forest” for a savage group jab.
Q. How do I keep my roast funny and not mean?
Follow with “Pair a roast with a playful tone to keep the vibe fun” to stay lighthearted.
Q. Are these roasts versatile for any fake friend moment?
Totally! Use “Your loyalty switches faster than a bad Wi-Fi signal. Pick a side already” or “You flake so much, you’re basically a cereal box” for any shady or flaky situation.