I used to think that labels were pimps
But then the ship starts to sink
When the shit starts to stink
And they went limp

I learned some new tricks
Learned some new tricks
Churned out music
Super produced it

Now I'm footloose fancy free
Providence don't dance for me

Can't you see I sell fantasy
That's what bonds my fans to me
They laugh at the insanity thanks to me
But if I don't sell tickets I'm canceling

The other entertainers are incompetent
They want to sound hard like consonants
But it's all false confidence
The audience is dominant

Now it's obvious I'm autonomous
I can smoke weed reading The Economist
My father is the one who taught me all of this
I told you I'm a different kind of bah bitch

I'm at your service, you seem nervous
Relax you deserve it
Here's a melody to lubricate your tear ducts
You're about to be ear fucked

It should be simple really, it's not rocket science
I am the product, you are the clients
You are the housewife I am the appliance
You're so demanding, so I'm suppliant

I'm good at it, became an addict
Making music, making money, making magic
It doesn't have to be tragic
It takes practice, now its automatic

Hardcore, twenty-seven hours do you want more?
It's gonna be a long war
You're done for fucking with the wrong whore
I'm a different kind of prostitute