We're turnt... turnt up

Turn down... for what?

I am the Messiah in the flesh, social pariah at its best

The graphite hit the striker take the fire to the chest

Pull the piece... smoke clears the tube like a .45

Then I wait a few months before I write more rhymes

In time, I'll get the hang of it like shirts in my closet

With verses nostalgic back to before 'Before'

People fled my side as if the court was adjourned

Couldn't play ball with the pro they ignored and conformed

Chanting 'We can do what we want but never want what we want...'

Appalled by the thought turned myself to a savant

Isolated from friends I sat and studied my art

The Viper constrained me by the neck but my thinking stayed sharp

But my un-aged heart was cut apart, a break up so I braked hard

Stored the zip in my lame car tried the Great Escape but hey

Sometimes the bird doesn't run out of the cage

It waits and waits 'cause at least this prison is spacious

It's great, huh? being uppermid class while you know it

Adopted at birth, sick of all these bastards that's stoic

Black and brown kids mad 'cause I'm the best on the Mic spittin'

White kids mad 'cause I keep talking about white privilege

And in the slight instance I blow up

Everyone gonna be like 'I'd be huge if the rich kid didn't show up'

Yeah, so what? the Viper gripped my wrist I wasn't given shit

Welcome to the mind of a kid raised by the internet

We're turnt... turnt up

Turn down... for what?

I am the Holy Ghost, smoking dro 'til I'm comatose

Put my foot down in the door to go toe to toe

With my inner demons in a room that's frigid freezing

Melt the skin off my skull 'cause that's some vivid dreaming

Abstractions in my head scribbled blood on papyrus

I am the mover of Worlds and the sun of Osiris

The whippings on my back and skull have bloodied my eyelids

Aligning my seven chakras while studying science

Was never tentative when I took the mic

The apple fell from the Tree like an angel so I took a bite

Looking like a goat with tits smoking spliffs

A fire burns on the top of my head... let me focus in, uh

Turn down for what? Turn down for what?

I'm the in-crowd homie pour it out in my cup

Herbs, grounds, and nugs burning down... what's up

Hit shots like 'bllatt bllatt' back to the back of my tongue

I ride on my chariot chasing after the sun, homie

Looking like a fly-ass bastard

I have mastered different dialogues within myself

In my core... it's as if I'm in a war, ok

I am the Messiah in the flesh with a fire in my chest, Imma burn it down with passion

I'm asking for a change just a few changes

But until then I'll be faded and Imma sing it to you like this...

We're turnt... turnt up

Turn down... for what?

I am the... 'messiah'