[Intro]
How fresh is he? (x3)
Open your ears

[Hook]
How fresh is he?
He's fresh to death (x3)
(Call me Lucifer)
How fresh is he?
He's fresh to death (x3)
(Call me Lucifer, yea
My friends call me fresh, flesh)

[Verse 1]
Young, fly, and fresh to death is what they call him
They say he's hot
They say he's scalding
Cream of the crop, at the top of the pot
Or the cauldron
Which crafts him into the spotlight of all men
Been balling, since a young spalding
First came on the scene, crawling in the garden
Spittin' all types of real slick jargon
He was just a lad then, speaking to Aladdin
Eve was just a Jasmine, he was like Jafar man
Well, similar the staff in hand, cobra
Fast forward, now he's older
Cream of the crop, at the top of the pot
Or the cauldron
Witchcraft now is in the spotlight of all men
His swag pistach, nuts go all men
His path got 'em following like a cult man
Yea, the influence-a, is influenza
And his flu is what the masses request
Cause they think he's fresh
[Hook]

[Verse 2]
The culture he's influenced
Got 'em speaking his language
And them fluent, them fluid
Them flew with the fly one
Like a maggot out his youth they say he's fly son
And in his mind it's ensuing
"How stupid I dupe them
Scoop them, school them
And now they're producing new students
Pursuing, death where their tomb is
How foolish of humans
That they don't recognize that I do this by fusing death in their music
Now they're using, gest where their doom is
For doing, this I have fueled them with coolness
And now they are cool kids
I use them as mutants
Hex them, label them generation X-Men
Freshmen, I profess them through seducing
'Till death is, their profession through their two lips"
The enemy's imagery has mentored these
Entering into the flickering flames
So when the freshness fades, the death will stay
[Verse 3]
I resist, the wants of the flesh
Was making me sick, like bumps on the flesh
They make me resist, my flesh's spirit
Butt heads like Beavis they can't co-exist
Co-exist, it ain't enough space
Only one can stick around, it ain't enough paste
It ain't enough ailments bruh, so I tell ya bruh
There's an exit door for beelzebub, yea
The Word says he'll flee man
I follow James like a plague for a Cleveland
4 and 7 got me playing good defense
Similar the 6 and 11 of Ephesians
My eyes all on it like God of the deep end
I dive off in my diaper on Him I depend
Like I peed pants, or my sheets wet
I stand firm in the faith, got my feet set