[Intro]
Everybody wants to be seen.
Nobody tells you
what it costs
when they finally look.
[Verse 1]
I used to pray for rooms
I couldn't get inside,
now I walk through the door
and still look for somewhere to hide.
That's funny.
Wanted attention
when nobody knew my name.
Now strangers know my face
and I don't know what they came for.
Love?
Access?
A picture?
A story?
Everybody wants a piece
when the whole thing gets enormous.
And I can't even blame them.
I wanted more too.
Wanted the car.
Wanted the house.
Wanted proof.
Wanted Mama to stop checking
every price before she bought it.
Wanted everyone who doubted
to feel stupid when they saw it.
Then I got some of it.
And that's when the question changed.
Not:
“Can I make it?”
Now:
“How much of me
do I lose if I stay?”
[Pre-Chorus]
I wanted the world.
The world looked back.
Now I don't know
which one of us is watching.
[Chorus]
WHAT'S THE PRICE
OF BEING SEEN?
WHEN EVERYBODY LOVES
THE VERSION ON THE SCREEN.
WHAT'S THE PRICE
OF GETTING EVERYTHING
IF YOU CAN'T TELL
WHO CAME FOR YOU
AND WHO CAME FOR THE DREAM?
I wanted more.
I got more.
Still asking:
“What for?”
[Verse 2]
My mother says:
“Be grateful.”
I am.
That's the problem.
I feel guilty
every time I'm unhappy with an option
I used to beg for.
How do you complain
from a room you once prayed for?
How do you say:
“I'm tired”
when your old self
would've died for what you got?
That's a strange prison.
Golden door.
Nice view.
Still a prison
if you're scared to leave the room.
I know people
who got rich and got smaller.
People who got famous
and started needing applause
just to remember
they still matter.
That's terrifying.
Because I understand it.
A crowd can become medicine
when silence starts asking questions.
[Beat Switch]
[Choir sample cuts]
[Drums become heavier]
[Verse 3]
I got an ego.
Yeah.
Let's not dress it up.
Part of me wants heaven.
Part wants everybody
to know I got there first.
Part wants peace.
Part wants the biggest room.
Part wants God.
Part wants my name
bigger than the building too.
Contradictions.
That's all I am.
A man saying:
“Money isn't everything”
while checking if the numbers climbed again.
A man preaching freedom
with a calendar full of chains.
A man asking for forgiveness
while repeating the same mistakes.
And I know how that sounds.
Hypocrite.
Maybe.
Or maybe people are complicated
and honesty looks ugly
when you don't edit it.
[Chorus]
WHAT'S THE PRICE
OF BEING SEEN?
WHEN EVERYBODY LOVES
THE VERSION ON THE SCREEN.
WHAT'S THE PRICE
OF GETTING EVERYTHING
IF YOU CAN'T TELL
WHO CAME FOR YOU
AND WHO CAME FOR THE DREAM?
I wanted more.
I got more.
Still asking:
“What for?”
[Verse 4]
I lost friends
without anybody saying goodbye.
Just distance.
New schedules.
New pride.
One started calling less
when I started doing better.
Another started calling more.
That's how you learn
success changes the weather.
People dress jealousy
like concern.
“I'm just worried about you.”
Maybe.
But why does your worry
always sound happier
when I lose?
That's a question
I stopped asking out loud.
Some answers
only make a room colder.
So I keep moving.
Not angry.
Just awake.
Forgiveness doesn't mean
everybody gets the key again.
That's maturity.
Or loneliness.
Some days
I can't tell the difference.
[Bridge]
[Beat disappears]
[Piano only]
God...
if You gave me all this,
why does enough
still move every time I reach it?
[Choir softly enters]
Maybe the blessing
was never the thing.
Maybe it was learning
I could survive without it.
[Voice lower]
Maybe I spent so long
trying to become somebody
that I forgot
being somebody was already enough.
[Full production rises]
[Final Verse]
So here's the new plan.
Not smaller dreams.
Cleaner reasons.
I still want more.
I'm just asking
who benefits when I receive it.
Mama needs peace?
Good.
Friends need work?
Good.
I need freedom?
Good.
But if the next goal
only exists to make strangers impressed,
that's not ambition.
That's addiction
wearing a better suit.
I want to build.
But I want to sleep.
I want applause.
But not if I need it to breathe.
I want the room.
But I want to leave it
and still know who I am.
That's the hardest flex.
Not being untouchable.
Being whole
when nobody claps.
[Final Chorus]
WHAT'S THE PRICE
OF BEING SEEN?
MAYBE I DON'T NEED
EVERY EYE ON ME.
WHAT'S THE PRICE
OF GETTING EVERYTHING?
MAYBE HAVING ENOUGH
MEANS KNOWING
WHAT YOU DON'T NEED.
I wanted more.
I still do.
But now I want
a reason too.
[Outro]
Everybody wants to be seen.
Tonight...
I think I'd rather
be known.
