They whisper tales
 from ten years gone,
 Tryna stitch my soul
 in a desperate con,
 Flickin’ pages,
 citing ghosts,
 Actin' like
 they always knew me
 the most.
 
 Talk big game
 in classy seminar halls,
 But they can’t decode
 my bathroom stalls.
 Fake friends
 soaked in noble gas,
 Talkin’ ‘bout truth
 while kissin’ my ass.
 
 They read it
 in a book,
 so it must be divine,
 But wisdom ain’t bought
 in a checkout line.
 
 Shook by the echoes
 I leave in my trail,
 While they debatin’
 if Jonah ever met
 this whale.
 
 I’m the mystery man —
 but you can call me
 Mr. E,
 Just passin’ through
 your little
 pretty galaxy,
 
 I'm high
 all the way to Kolob,
 Hey,
 check your DMs...
 
 I'm the thankless friend
 you never mention.
 I left a payload
 in your spam,
 and you still
 don't understand.
 
 God says
 Damn,
 He's the Mystery Man
 
 Bloated minds
 on overheat,
 Recycling thought
 like gas-station meat.
 Droppin' darts
 on tenured frauds,
 Blessed be A I,
 I'm free
 from the silicon gods.
 
 Resumé crooks
 in rented threads,
 Spoutin' truths
 they never bled.
 Can't find the forest
 through my verse,
 Still quoting
 old chapters
 like I was a curse.
 
 Mystics in the mirror
 with no skin
 in the game,
 Spellin’ my name wrong
 while jockin’
 my flame.
 
 I’m past the hype,
 past the plan,
 You’re just now askin' —
 who's the mystery man?
 
 So miss me
 with that fake
 high stance,
 Your co-opt priests
 don't know
 how to dance.
 
 Sit back down,
 let the grown folk land —
 This song ain’t about
 your shaky brand.
 
 They seekin' breadcrumbs,
 I’m baking worlds,
 Droppin’ gems
 on them chains
 where the data swirls.
 
 Forget a blue chip,
 I’m off-grid wealth,
 Consuming wisdom
 like a black hole,
 flyin’ stealth.
 
 They whisper tales
 from ten years gone,
 Tight threads
 in the wrong fabric,
 sewn all wrong.
 
 Tryna sketch my past
 with broken chalk,
 Talkin’ like they know me —
 but can’t walk
 my talk.
 
 Still I sit there,
 grinnin',
 playin’ along,
 Listenin' to stale farts
 dressed up
 as ancient song.
 
 Wisdom bloated,
 ego coated,
 Fakin’ woke
 while drowning,
 Jack —
 they barely even floated.
 
 Friends so righteous,
 high on heady fumes,
 Clutchin' their degrees
 in academic tombs.
 
 Shootin’ darts
 of borrowed truth,
 While I’m just vibin',
 speakin’
 101 proof.
 
 Art look like TEMU,
 smells like
 your moms cooter,
 It's easy
 to hit a target
 as a sharp shooter.
 
 Ten years forged me —
 now I bomb clean,
 One sharp breath
 blows a faker
 into steam.
 
 Now you sit
 knees just aching,
 Playing fake shaman
 looking for my sin.
 
 Illuminate my schisms?
 Please.
 I spit glyphs
 that'd leave priests
 on their knees.
 
 I’m the Mystery Man —
 no textbook
 could scan,
 I'm cast iron
 on wood coals
 
 yer an aluminum pan
 on electric coils
 
 this ain’t about
 yer fake friend,
 will always be a crook
 in my book.
 Ain't no such thing
 as queens
 without rooks.
 
 You can never help a man
 without his permission
 Blow through your bones
 like cosmic radiation.
 
 Can't take this heat,
 G T F O
 my kitchen.
 
 You’ll never find the forest,
 you just thick,
 in my trees,
 I’m flyin’ leaf-blade wings
 on a 5g breeze
 
 Off the grid,
 outta time,
 but always
 on your mind.
 
 But don't forget,
 i was never broke,
 just waiting
 on the right timeline.
 
 I’m the mystery man —
 you can call me
 W B
 
 Fuck you
 and your friends,
 
 Now welcome
 to my galaxy.
 
 Oh yeah
 that's very cherry.