My only fear is fear itself
I ain't afraid to die, more afraid of myself
Seven lyric lines, no interviews, and the largest tag is wisdom (4 of 7). They are spread across seven different songs, so this is a sampler more than a deep cut of one record: Beautiful Death on fear, The Book of Soul on grief, Pineal Gland on spirit and geometry, ILLuminate on the ambition behind picking up a pen. Wit and pain turn up twice each. If there is a through-line, it is a writer who treats big abstract ideas as punchline material.
Your picture's still on my mirror, and it's so scary
I swear I still ain't looked at your obituary
You got a past, but that's in the past
And we all know that, you can't press rewind
All I did was take gangsters to church
Got your lady with literature in her Louis bag
Got your kid studying outside of class
Back when I first grabbed that pen
I told myself I was gon' win
And I ain't know when
But it was gon' end up happenin', I want in
We in a space where matter don't matter
Just spirit molecules and geometric patterns
I run the town like Roc Nation, no exaggeration
Bet I rise like Lazarus, use your imagination