Funny thing about art… People call it “too fucking weird” right before somebody rich copy it. Mos Jeph. Selene Vale. The Attorneys General. I spent years shrinking galaxies into safer shapes… Teaching my fire how to behave for strangers’ sake… Everybody scream “be yourself” theoretically… Till yourself move differently aesthetically… Then the smiles go cold… The room get mechanical… Everything beautiful suddenly becomes impractical… But maybe strange is sacred… Maybe discomfort mean your spirit waking upppp… Maybe the shit they laugh at first become immortal later onnnnn… MAKE IT FOR YOURSELF NOOOOOOW! Whole damn world want safe little art on a shelf somehowwwww… Everybody terrified of shit they cannot label… Till the same weird vision turn legendary later! HEY! HEY! DON’T NEGOTIATE THE FLAME! HEY! HEY! DON’T FUCKING CHANGE FOR FAME! We don’t exist to be digestibleeeee… We exist to make invisible people feel seeeeeen… Look— I was digitally dissecting identity carefully Editing spirit to fit industry therapy Everybody love originality theoretically Till originality morph experimentally Then it’s— “Why the cadence twitch?” “Why the beat feel cracked?” “Why the hook sound sad when the drums attack?” Cause life contradictory, motherfucker, that’s reality Half anxiety mixed with dangerous creativity Trend tourists cosplay innovation temporarily Meanwhile invisible artists alter culture chemically Algorithm favor repetition and familiarity While the genuinely visionary scare the majority So I stopped begging fearful people for approval Most opinions got the lifespan of disposable noodles History burying brilliance repeatedly Then selling rebellion back commercially Van Gogh died broke. Tesla got mocked. Now both immortal. That’s the fucking point. Maybe misunderstood just mean your soul ahead of timeeeee… Every revolutionary melody sounded ugly first… Before arenas screamed every worddddd… THEY DON’T UNDERSTAND IIIIIIT… THAT AIN’T WHY WE MAAAADE IIIIIT… EVERY STRANGE IDEA START AS SOMETHIN PEOPLE HAAAAATED… MAKE IT LOUD! MAKE IT TRUE! EVEN IF THEY LOOK THROUGH YOU! Whole world terrified of weird till weird become the cultuuuuure… We don’t make art for algorithms noooooow… We make art so broken people survive somehowwwww… I got synapses sparking like riots inside cathedrals Beautiful chaos mixed with cinematic evil People want simple predictable sequels I build emotional hurricanes through brass and needles Ripping syllables Digital cynical rituals Literal spiritual missiles Bending the tempo while keeping the pocket identical I’d rather get hated for brutally telling the truth Than celebrated disappearing inside of the room That’s why the bassline shake like panic physically breathing That’s why the harmonies sound like souls still bleeding And if they don’t get it? Good. Maybe your frequency too advanced for the building. WHOA-OHHHH… Don’t negotiate your soullllll… FOR YOURSELF! FOR YOURSELF! FOR YOURSELF! Art ain’t democracyyyyy… THEY DON’T UNDERSTAND IIIIIIT… THAT AIN’T WHY WE MAAAADE IIIIIT… Somewhere somebody shattered might hear this and survive toniiiiiight… THAT’S WHY WE SING IIIIIIT… HEY! HEY! MAKE IT FOR YOURSELF! Even if they never understanddddd…
