This season is still, after all these years, complete bullshit.
The red and green decorations. The fake warmth. The obnoxious songs about some jolly fat bastard breaking into people’s houses with his red-nosed sidekick leading the way still playing of a fucking loop.
Christmas is the most overrated holiday on the planet, if you ask me. It’s also the one time of year people get on my fucking nerves the most.
Everyone suddenly acts like the world’s a beautiful and kind place. Like loneliness and pain, take the month off.
Maybe I’m biased. Maybe I’ve got my own reasons for hating a holiday built on pretending everything is sweet, magical, and wrapped in a giant red fucking bow.
I glance through the floor-to-ceiling glass and watch the snow fall over Seoul. It falls slowly and delicate at first. That’s how it tricks you.
It looks serene and beautiful but I know better
Something that looks so pretty? It’s fucking deadly.
I don’t trust it.
I never have.
Because snow has a funny way of hiding the ugly things underneath.
Blowing out a deep breath, I rest a hand against the cold glass and watch the city below.
Seoul.
My buildings, penthouses and my empire are here.
Yes, the irony isn’t lost on me.
I grew up with shit to my name and now I own more than I could spend in ten lifetimes.
Funny thing is...when you’re a hungry kid, wealth isn’t all this shit. Wealth is knowing you’ll eat tomorrow. It’s a place where nobody can hurt or touch you while you sleep.
I spent my whole life chasing money and turns out real wealth is when entire industries move because you make a single phone call.
My music made me famous.
My past made me infamous.
Turns out the combination was worth a fortune and it felt like selling my soul to the devil.
First came the records.
Then the sold-out tours.
Then the endorsement deals.
Businesses.
Investments.
Somewhere along the way, I stopped being just a rapper.
I became a brand.
A corporation wearing tattoos and scars that no one sees.
These days, I’m call the face of modern Korean rap.