From a God to a jester, I release all the pressure. Take new identity, put smiles on my enemies, Entertain all their fantasies, pure gold what they handin me, They give it over willingly, no need to act convincingly.

See I turn dust into art, I put light where there’s dark, Minimal friends but many frenemies, I hear the hate but don’t let it bother me. See I’m different ‘bruh’, and that’s a matter of fact, Livin this human existence with my inner child still intact.

See those attempts they call attacks, ain’t nothin but straight whack. Just some birds of a feather, they water droplets off my back.