NO GENRE [Intro] Static... You spent the whole album trying to figure out what I sound like. Rap? Trap? Rock? Pop? Punk? Metal? Emo? Wrong question. The question was never "What genre is Platinum!?" The question was... "Why the fuck does he need one?" Beat drops. OHMYGOD ITS THA GOD!! [Hook] No genre, no box, no label, no limits, I came from the bottom with a whole lotta vision, I can rap, I can sing, I can scream, I can switch it, If I feel it, I'ma make it, I don't need your permission. No genre, no rules, no lane, no ceiling, Every scar in my music got a different kinda feeling, You can try to categorize me, but the definition keeps changing, I'm not one sound... I'm everything I'm feeling. [Verse 1] I started with a beat and a thought in my head, Turned a page full of pain into something instead, Turned the words I was scared to admit that I felt Into songs that could speak when I couldn't myself. I made music for the nights I was losing my mind, Made music for the heartbreak, the anger, the nights, Made music for the people who were feeling alone, Made music for the ones who got nowhere to go. Then I learned I could scream, Then I learned I could sing, Then I learned I could bend Every rule they had written. They said, "Pick one." I said, "Why?" Why would I put a ceiling on a mind that survived Every version of itself just to make it alive? Why would I stay in one lane when I got worlds inside? Why would I sound like everybody when I spent my whole life Trying to find out what makes me different? [Pre-Hook] So if you came here for a category... I ain't got one. If you came here for a formula... I ain't got one. If you came here for the same song twice... You came to the wrong fucking artist. [Hook] No genre, no box, no label, no limits, I came from the bottom with a whole lotta vision, I can rap, I can sing, I can scream, I can switch it, If I feel it, I'ma make it, I don't need your permission. No genre, no rules, no lane, no ceiling, Every scar in my music got a different kinda feeling, You can try to categorize me, but the definition keeps changing, I'm not one sound... I'm everything I'm feeling. [Verse 2] Put me over trap drums, I'll attack the percussion, Put me over guitar, I'll turn pain into combustion, Put me over piano, I'll confess every function Of a heart that's been damaged but refuses destruction. I can make you wanna rage, I can make you wanna cry, I can make you wanna scream At the ceiling in the night. I can make a melody Out of misery and grief, I can make a technical verse Out of thoughts I couldn't speak. I can switch the cadence, Change the rhythm, Change the texture, Change the tempo, Change the message, Change the pressure. Every section got another side of me embedded, Every record is a different chapter in the same confession. You wanted Platinum! in a box? I broke the box. You wanted Platinum! in a lane? I built another road. You wanted Platinum! to sound like everybody else? I became impossible to clone. [BEAT SWITCH] Guitar feedback. Drums cut. Silence. You know what I learned? Being different isn't the problem. Trying to make yourself smaller so other people understand you... that's the problem. Bass slams back in. [Verse 3] I'm the kid with the dream and the man with the scars, I'm the father with a reason to reach for the stars, I'm the brother with memories of people departed, I'm the artist who turned every wound into art. I'm the anger, the sadness, the love and the laughter, The mistakes that I made and the lessons thereafter, I'm the nights I was broken, the mornings I answered, "I'm still fucking here," when I wanted to surrender. I'm every song on this album combined in a heartbeat, Every tear in the melody, every kick when the bass hits, Every word that I wrote when nobody could hear me, Every version of Platinum! that I had to become to get here. Welcome to the static. Welcome to the pressure. Welcome to the pain. Welcome to the fucking weather. Welcome to the anger. Welcome to the heartbreak. Welcome to the healing. Welcome to the choices that I made. Welcome to Platinum! No filter. No category. No permission. No apology. [Final Hook] No genre, no box, no label, no limits, I came from the bottom with a whole lotta vision, I can rap, I can sing, I can scream, I can switch it, If I feel it, I'ma make it, I don't need your permission. No genre, no rules, no lane, no ceiling, Every scar in my music got a different kinda feeling, You can try to categorize me, but the definition keeps changing, I'm not one sound... I'm everything I'm feeling. No genre! No box! No limits! No rules! PLATINUM! [Outro] The beat slowly strips away. If you listened from the beginning... You heard the static. You heard the confidence. You heard the anger. You heard the heartbreak. You heard the healing. You heard me question who I was. You watched me become. Then you heard my name. And now you know... I don't need a genre. Because Platinum! is the genre. Static returns. NO GENRE. Silence.
