Pictures with strangers, perhaps with the fame

I haven’t been the same; unrecognizable even with
all these fans screaming my name

There’s always a price to entertain

I entered into a much louder desperation out of my
old depression's gate. But still lying about feeling great

Still I’m among all of the greats; those who've tasted fame

Anyways, one lick of it made me sick— thick legs always
any easy pick, but I never thought I’d call someone a *****

It’s quite rich, like I am; still with his poor tastes

All these make-ups on a face; making up for your pain
make up ***, made up ideas from sexting texts

It felt a given, it would all take away my innocence

Feeling caught always in the thrill of them cheering my
brilliance; masking how it kills my feelings

To now feeling more worried about my appealing

“How’s my appearance,” factoring those experiences
would they still take me less than serious

Sort of shook hands with the president

Still preferred the picture; not being in a picture with him,
looking like I live on his immoral morals like a resident

Paranoid paradise: so relaxed on being anxious

The camera flashes always judge my actions,
calling me old fashioned. Not fashioned in those factions

Overthinking what to put under my caption

Capture a moment, but the camera lens is the only forever
lasting smile; soon I’ll be turning into Mr Passive

Still I had a passion, beforehand

Fame served me a lot to handle in a forehand, nobody
understands the grip of fame in Hollywood’s tight hand

Serving you free chicken

*******, and thighs— Bets and thongs, a high supply
of different women. Swallowing their pride and your children

A million dollar tub, but still feeling filthy

“Oh really, you think you can have your soul back,”
the devil now outside, once only one within me

I made a deal to die at fifty

Knowing the fame won’t last me that long, feeding myself
to an empty richness. So **** greedy!

But hey, I guess I made it

What would have been the chances; still if only I had
waited a little longer for God’s right answers.

But hey mama, I’m famous...