During a Listening Party playthrough of “Miyage,” a few listeners got upset and some made claims that the track glorifies or even confesses to predatory behaviour. That’s a serious charge, and one I don’t take lightly. So I thought I’d do what I always advocate for:
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Slow down, step back, breathe, think.
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I want to talk about satire, subversion, and why the gut reaction of “BAD” might actually be the start instead of the end of your engagement with my work. It’s had a GPT formatting pass because it needed to fit into Discord and I’m bad at editing (see my songs for examples), but the points are mine, emdashes notwithstanding.
My lyrics are written for a persona—Mabozza Richi—who is not me. Think Slim Shady vs Marshall Mathers. A fictional exaggeration designed to challenge, expose, seduce, and repulse—all at once. The outrageousness is the point. It’s the paint I use. If it makes you uncomfortable, that’s a fine thing. That means you’re paying attention. That means you're thinking.
Western culture is spiralling back into puritanism—clamping down on sexual expression, shaming sex workers, policing women’s choices, banning access to care. Meanwhile, predators thrive in silence, shielded by the same polite society that shuns open conversations about pleasure and consent. I don’t write about sex because it’s shocking. I write about it because your discomfort is the thing I’m trying to crack open and have a frank discussion about.
I’m also not especially more lyrically transgressive or vulgar than a lot of mainstream music, to be quite frank. They just have better marketing budgets so you think they’re more legitimate.
Let’s walk through the lyrics and show how the oscillation technique works. The alternation between shocking and safe, disgusting and sweet, critique and complicity. This is the key to interpreting “Miyage.”
Her eyes met mine over the rim of her glass
Lost my mind said, “hey, let me lick the rim of your ass”
She said she’d had a burrito but if I still wanna eat tho she’s
Sweet and lo, good to go, lights are greener than grass
Starts with an escalation from flirt to filth to warm, playful consent. Gross? Sure. But also mutual. And honest.
This chiquitita’s nalgona gave my banana a bona
I was Louvreing to release her and I’m making her moan-a