Dead (feat. Summer Walker)

From the news summary straight to your personal diary: news of a scandal turns into a hoarse manifesto, where anger and fatigue go hand in hand with ostentatious luxury. Here, there is a sadness that is not accidental - these are tears that no one has noticed for six months, and then a fierce determination, wrapped in chains and high fashion. The rhythm resembles a march down the corridor of criticism: the click of heels, whispers of ‘she's still at her peak’ and a rough confidence that a place in the spotlight belongs to those who are not afraid to get their hands dirty. Sometimes you want to laugh at the pathos, sometimes you want to feel sorry, but more often than not, you sigh and admit that here, bitterness has turned into style, and vulnerability into battle gear.