[Intro] Hello? It's me. Your Majesty. Called to tell you — I bribed them all. Thirsty. Hungry. Feared the all-mighty. I'm not sheisty. Majesty. Just rusty. Honesty is the currency. No one will know. You have amnesty. [Verse 1] Past the point of beneath me — pride became a luxury. Corners suit me. Nothing's beneath me. No different — brain of a maiden, God-forsaken. Doorbell dead. Stopped waiting for the raven to decide I'm worth saving. Whispers cascade — convinced it's all about me. Laughs marinate — slow-cooking a catastrophe. My insanity lost its own sanity — extended the warranty — signed off my humanity. No visionary survives the disciplinary — wary of the mockery, the oral commentary. Was it intentional? Your lecture conventional? Let it be — I never deserved to be. (laughs) What do I ever do right? In the court of the perfectionary, I'm the kid who never played Pictionary. Had to grow up in a hurry — buried in worry. No verdict. No jury. [Bridge] Said I got no vision. Beats off rhythm — stuck in attrition. They don't know I grew up with friction — started from zero. Pure fucking auto-diction. Let's stop before this turns into a full confession. Time's up — ringer's out. Done with the intermission. Already lurking. Quietly working. His name is Lenin — the part they kept murking. Wears high heels and a pink Birkin. Watch him shake — waking, breaking the curtain. [Refrain] Lenin's at the door. Majesty's at the gate. Brick by brick — renovate. [Verse 2] Thick-skinned. Still wanna be a winner. Lenin — my mirror, my ringer, getting cleaner. [Whisper] High heels on the floor. Pink Birkin at the door — you were here before. The floor is yours. Let me hear the forge's roars. [Whisper] haha Please God, shine your mercy if not on me, on Lenin's atrocity. [Refrain] Ringer's in. King is late. Round by round — dead weight. [Verse 3] Borrowed principles kept me chained. Easily swayed. Easily played. Never reclaimed what you called bait — watched it shift, stood back, named it fate. Now I clean the bayt — بيت — renovate. Fuck the sun, the heat, and all the hate. [Spoken Word] [Cold] My deaf uncle speaks better than you. Soul brittle. Will of a little. Majesty — face idle, mind a riddle. Lenin brought the sickle — I hold it in the middle. Fed from a golden spoon — no, a ladle. [Whisper] (laughs) [Verse 4] Rattled? His highness is rattled by a sound that beats him in every battle! Forgot your crown — how you gonna move the cattle? Majesty, the bergerie !! who's guarding the bergerieee? would it still be called a burglaryyy if the crown was stolen with a little nurseryyy? Do I plead to perjury or artistryyy ? Doesn't matter, just keep eating your brie, I'll take you to Charles' apogeeee — use your head for my orangerieee, open a boulangerieee, sell patisserie for freeee in the mémoire of our camaraderieeee — [Spoken Word] [Defiant] [FRENCH] vous me suivez? [/FRENCH] A king must know his history. [Outro] hold on, I should know my history — Fuck ! I shouldn't have tasted the patisserie. His blood was full of mercury. Oh well ... May we be welcomed by 72 demons wearing lingerie hahah
