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Verse 1

Bill collectors callin' me they want me to pay

I could tell 'em that i'm broke, what they want me to say?

That my rap money ain't really hittin' today?

The music industry a shit show, I hope it decays?

But anyway, I can not stress on what is out my control

I can post on social media and hope that it blows

This is the everyday life of an artist with goals

But every time that he scrolls he see an internet troll

I'ma keep it a brick with you, this shit suckin' my soul like Moro

I'm just a mortal, where Galactic Patrol? (Get Merus on the line)

But every time you see me smilin', I put on a show

I feel like no one I know is really playin' they role

And in case I don't see ya, this is Jimbolini speakin'

I'm seekin' help, my mental health is sinkin' to the deep end

Email a thousand therapists, they send me links to click on

Fill out a form, they say that my insurance ain't in season (What do you mean you don't take Medi-Cal!?)

And I can't seek a deacon, I'm agnostic, heart is beatin'

Now the speed is pickin' up, my anxiety is peakin'

I really want to scream and my fight is slowly leavin'

Now I'm contemplatin' suicide, a cup of bleach'll clean it

Interlude

*Sips*

Ahhh

Now I'm speechless

Verse 2

You know how frustratin' that it is to be this talented

Then watch a weak **** get pushed by label management?

They label this 'alternative,' alternative is

Anything without a 808 or murderin' kids

Spotify got bodies, you ain't know?

Meta caught a couple bodies, you ain't know?

Mhm, assisted suicide at the press of button

I guess them little mothfuckas had that shit comin'

Modern day artists, hopin' you stream they songs and when

Numbers matchin' the marketing profit margins look promising

Now the labels are talkin' they harvest em, sign the dot on 'em

"Now you in **** you in, go cop a watch on 'em!"

Now the audience followin' matchin' the cops that follow 'em

Jumpin' out of the blue, paparazzi stalkin' 'em, talkin' 'bout

"Hey what up boss, how the celeb life treatin' you?"

(Yo what the fuck, who is this ****?)

Yo first instinct is to take off on 'em

Offin' the spectators for causin' the altercation

Now TMZ got yo face in the media lookin' awful

Now the IRS watchin' em, any day they gon' audit 'em

Now he feel the depression, he thought it would be impossible

How did I see the other side and feel deprived of joy?

I thought when I signed I'd feel the pride, but now I feel destroyed

Plus the hype has died and no one wants to ride for ya' boy

I felt Nirvana for a second, now I Kurt Cobain my weapon

And I—

*gun shot*

Outro

*Crowd cheers, standing ovation, reacts, whistles, encore chant*

JIMMY (on stage): Thank you. Thank you. Give it up for our lovely cast. Thank you! You've been a wonderful crowd, I appreciate it