Hony En

I mix the beat with amber — thick and slow,

In the jar it shines like the East hidden below.

Drop in some X — reptilian secret code,

Success comes flying faster than any reply on the road.

I’m high — like scales gleaming in the dark,

Like the world’s at my feet, like I’ve found the spark.

Every step — a breakthrough, every move — manifesto,

I walk into any locked human quest, no presto.

Sweet heat in my chest, like I’m already a legend,

Everyone screams “go!”, like I’m their brand new weapon.

But inside there’s a hiss, a faint chilly thread —

Every “quick rise” is a delicate lead.

Honey, magic honey — plus the secret ingredient,

Million-dollar lift, but the bill is one hundred percent.

Honey, magic honey — it’s a fake element,

King for an hour… then a lifetime cement.

I get it all — the formula’s plain,

Sweetness for the mind is a soft rein.

You feel like a god, like you’re outside the grid,

But really you’re just someone’s experiment, kid.

Reptilian X pumps the pulse, makes it race,

Gives the illusion: “you’re the chosen, the ace”.

Business, fame, the stage — it all falls apart,

Your body sends the invoice straight to the heart.

Every “win” is a painted throne,

Every next step — thinner ice under your own.

You shine bright like a flawless emerald stone,

But inside the process has already begun its own.

Honey, magic honey — plus the secret ingredient,

Million-dollar lift, but the bill is one hundred percent.

Honey, magic honey — it’s a fake element,

King for an hour… then a lifetime cement.

Listen close, inhabitant of planet Earth,

This “sweet success” is not your worth.

All that X additive — pure mirage,

It doesn’t build you — it removes your garage.

I never recommend this route,

Looks gorgeous at launch — but the path is short.

Honey with X — quick flashy effect,

The end is the same — minus intellect.

You won’t get stronger from chemical lies,

Real upgrade comes from what’s burning inside.

Sweet shine is a trick, a clever ploy,

True success is the long, slow climb, boy.

Final chorus (harder):

Honey, magic honey — plus the secret ingredient,

Yeah, you’ll soar for an hour — but lose the moment.

Honey, magic honey — temporary front,

It gives you wings…

to switch your brain off.