Fresh To Death

How fresh is he?

Open your ears

How fresh is he?

He's fresh to death

(Call me Lucifer)

How fresh is he?

He's fresh to death

(Call me Lucifer, yea

My friends call me fresh, flesh)

Young, fly, and fresh to death is what they call him

They say he's hot

They say he's scalding

Cream of the crop, at the top of the pot

Or the cauldron

Which crafts him into the spotlight of all men

Been balling, since a young spalding

First came on the scene, crawling in the garden

Spittin' all types of real slick jargon

He was just a lad then, speaking to Aladdin

Eve was just a Jasmine, he was like Jafar man

Well, similar the staff in hand, cobra

Fast forward, now he's older

Cream of the crop, at the top of the pot

Or the cauldron

Witchcraft now is in the spotlight of all men

His swag pistach, nuts go all men

His path got 'em following like a cult man

Yea, the influence-a, is influenza

And his flu is what the masses request

Cause they think he's fresh

The culture he's influenced

Got 'em speaking his language

And them fluent, them fluid

Them flew with the fly one

Like a maggot out his youth they say he's fly son

And in his mind it's ensuing

How stupid I dupe them

Scoop them, school them

And now they're producing new students

Pursuing, death where their tomb is

How foolish of humans

That they don't recognize that I do this by fusing death in their music

Now they're using, gest where their doom is

For doing, this I have fueled them with coolness

And now they are cool kids

I use them as mutants

Hex them, label them generation X-Men

Freshmen, I profess them through seducing

'Till death is, their profession through their two lips

The enemy's imagery has mentored these

Entering into the flickering flames

So when the freshness fades, the death will stay

I resist, the wants of the flesh

Was making me sick, like bumps on the flesh

They make me resist, my flesh's spirit

Butt heads like Beavis they can't co-exist

Co-exist, it ain't enough space

Only one can stick around, it ain't enough paste

It ain't enough ailments bruh, so I tell ya bruh

There's an exit door for beelzebub, yea

The Word says he'll flee man

I follow James like a plague for a Cleveland

4 and 7 got me playing good defense

Similar the 6 and 11 of Ephesians

My eyes all on it like God of the deep end

I dive off in my diaper on Him I depend

Like I peed pants, or my sheets wet

I stand firm in the faith, got my feet set