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everything tries to destroy the glimmer of my peace
am i not deserving on immersive boredom?
the boredom that corrodes your life with peaceful smell of beauty and rest
the one that allows your soul here on earth?
saving myself will kill me, saving myself will bury me alive
this is the nectar of truth i sip from the edges of my heart
the whirlwind of chaos swelling in and through thoughts in my head, heart and mind
the imagination that puts one man against another to evoke reaction, needless
this is the peace of God, it takes like the forbidden fruit
this is the peace of God, it taste like the Garden of Eden, to unworthy to enter therein
this is the peace of God, the quench, the reliever, the sign of God
all the war in my heart is fought for the attainment of God
the prince of peace sits in my heart, look up the throne
watch the throne, let the light from your head uplifted brighten your eyes
let you legs walk to the light and be transformed by its penetrating glow
let the scales and pain laced like tissue on the heart be dissolved into brightness
biscuit of my bone, the savor in every crunch
the crust breaks, i share some crumbs with the earth
there is more to this taste, add some milk to it
the luxury of having a munch this good
i feel you in my mouth, add some milk to it
more and more after each bite, i want more and more
hobnobs left the hood before me, whew
hobnobs left the hood before me, damn
i demand honesty, brutal, the one that makes you flee
i demand transparency, the one that mirrors you
i demand raw identity, the one before the ego
i demand blood and tears, the fountain of life
i am a victim of exposing my neural paths to pornography
i am a sister to my pain and self neglect
i need to get better for myself and the guys
i cannot live like this at the detriment of my soul
i am a false leader, is daddy always right?
i have to face it all or it comes back full circle
my heart abides within like an onion clove
walk away from this the champion of your soul, the writer of your story
live in the moment like a monk, stable and sure
certainty is like the moon, half in half until the full moon
self love is the water of my soul
the flow, the "feug" effect, i am like water now
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take your eyes off the sights of heaven
i am sick of the gospel that drips the covenant of mercy
i am sick of the sermon that produces the poor in heart, the poor in pocket
God asks you to empty your pockets at the service
hardworker, where is the evidence of your suffering?
let jesus deliver you bread and water
the lord loves the story of a job
why then are we bothered with visions of the blessing ?
the most blessed of sons is my eternal joke
the light of the world is in the corner of the city shivering in cold
what is this talk of the saving grace that pata your back at the reality of suffering in hell on earth?
your prayers are rennovated beggings at a God that laughs at your sorrow
join the queue, whose blessings are to be delivered
blood, sweat, tears, turmoil and pain is expected in pain
the blood of the optimist and the positive will gush at the announcement of the sharp blade of poverty and suffering
i will leave the earth before it turns me to ash
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i try and try, i try everytime
the pain is not new to me, converting it is
there is no reward for desire, the reward is pain
the reward for desire is pain
stuck between creative and rich
wait till i get my money right
the money is the key to freedom
the money is the massage for the pain
where God is present, the money is absent
the bank is the presence of God
the curse to till the earth has caught up to me
God made money to do the things he can
money rules the world, money runs the world
money determines the winner, the victor
money is the great curse, without it there is nothing
forget the world, forget the emotion, the money is the end all, be all
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O my boys,
a long year invested in threads of connection,
this is how i feel,
sometimes i laugh, sometimes i cry
i feel i am spinning on the wheel of the universe
a thousand and one thoughts cross my mind in a minute,
fuck the world, i am a walking erection
i love my boys and all attacks fashioned against them shall not prosper
This episode with Shazzz is a wild one—straight up. We didn’t just scratch the surface; we went into the deep, dark, and ego-driven corners of being a creative.
We kicked things off talking about split personalities and that moment you finally decide to actually know yourself. Shazzz gets incredibly real about the psychological side of things—even the chilling experience of sitting next to a literal serial killer.
Here’s the breakdown of the chaos:
The Alté Struggle: The honest truth about being a Northern artist and fighting through the stereotypes to find your sound.
Superstar Aura: We defined what a real superstar is and why the fear of being a "local champion" keeps us up at night.
The Ego Trip: Dealing with superiority complexes, the importance of having a niche, and the real reason we’re all still bothered with school.
Global Ambitions: From learning French to manifesting rooms with Rihanna, Wizkid, and Jay-Z, plus the vibe of finally meeting Nasty C.
The Music: Shazzz’s love for the craft, opening up to new genres, and spinning Myllow’s latest track.
We covered everything from feminism and parents to why Kanye and the Kardashians are always in the conversation. It’s a therapy session, a vibe, and a reality check all in one.
is the rose ashamed of its thorns?
is the rose insecure of its red glow?
is the rose scared of prinking the thumb of the one who holds it?
can the rose be adored in its untainted glory?
dirty, dismayed, soiled at the bottom
mind roaming through the ceiling, still at a point of focus
rebellion is the color red, love is the same
all is one, all that i am is one
there is no condemnation for me
the thorns are in my refuge, the thorns are for my safety
this is the way of the rose in the garden
this is the way of the rose in the garden
my breath is powerful, my story is potent
all in all, sin, power, glory, fame rest in the palm of my hands
is the rose ashamed of its thorns?
will you break for shame, guilt and consequence?
for all my existence i have been perceived i am special
the special ones live in the dream of an illusion while the precious moment escapes from sight
if i would rewrite the past, i am normal
normal is good, normal can be excellent
this is the standard i hold myself to
that i am not above any man, that i am not arm in arm with any man
that all kindness i receive is a grace of compassion from a divine heart
that all pain and suffering i create is equilibrium with the soul
let me live again as human, feel the pain and savor the experience
let me live again as human, strike the iron with all grit and burden
let me ascend through my darkness, let me accept the light
with dim eyes do i welcome the bright shining, with welcoming arms do i enter the gates of being
cleanse the pedestal of my heart and mind and exalt only Christ
the mirror, the perfect emulation of mankind in reflection of his glory
let me breathe the air of the normal man, for i too am normal
let the idea of specialness vanish from my being, so i will be well
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