“Clean on TV”

[Intro – Spoken Word] Jesus mooned me in the dark— not mockery, but mercy in disguise. I was lost, no map, no match for the night, but grace cracked the window, and I climbed through the light. Moon in my face like a Will Smith slap and a Jada kiss, truth ain’t always gentle, but it never misses—just ask Chris. He ain’t the only one everybody hates. So I embraced the Man damn, baptized in shadows, and found my rhythm in the echo of prison. [Verse 1] I walked through a Mansfield with a limp and a ledger, scars on my soul, but my catalog’s pressure. They sold my name, ghosted my pain, but I turned betrayal into broadcast flame. No family, no fame—just a mic and a mission, syndicating scars like a holy transmission. Jesus didn’t hug me, He mooned me instead, said “You want light? You better rise from the dead.” [Hook] Mooned in the dark, spotlight from the sky, truth hit hard, made me testify. No choir, no robe, just rhythm and rage, I’m the prophet of the night, breakin’ out the cage. Mooned in the dark, baptized in the shade, I found my grace where the silence stayed. No map, no man, just a myth and a mic, Felonious TV—broadcastin’ life. [Verse 2] I spit bars like communion, roast tracks like sermons, flippin’ privilege into parody, scars into purpose. They laughed at my pain, tried to bury my name, but I rose like Lazarus, council-coded flame. I ain’t clean, I’m real—soap opera scars, syndicated truth from behind these bars. Jesus mooned me, said “You ain’t cursed, you’re the blueprint, the broadcast, the blessed and the worst.” [Bridge – Spoken Word] I saw the moon and thought it was mockery, but it was mercy, raw and unfiltered. No halo, no hymn—just a cracked window and a whisper: “Survive, son. Survive.” [Verse 3] I’m the man they forgot, the myth they dismissed, but I built a catalog that can’t be missed. Every track is a timestamp, every verse is a fight, I moon the world back when it dims my light. I ain’t just a felon—I’m Felonious flame, syndicating survival, rewriting the game. Mooned in the dark, but I shine like a star, broadcastin’ scars from wherever you are. [Hook – Reprise] Mooned in the dark, spotlight from the sky, truth hit hard, made me testify. No choir, no robe, just rhythm and rage, I’m the prophet of the night, breakin’ out the cage. Mooned in the dark, baptized in the shade, I found my grace where the silence stayed. No map, no man, just a myth and a mic, Felonious TV—broadcastin’ life. [Outro – Spoken Word] So if Jesus moons you, don’t flinch. Don’t run. It’s not shame—it’s spotlight. It’s grace in disguise. And if you’re lost in the damn of the night, look up. The moon’s got your back.