I wrote this track from inside the body, not above it. The language sweats, slips, teases, contradicts itself—because desire does that. Rivers, gold, heat, flesh: these aren’t symbols asking to be solved, they’re sensations colliding. The song moves the way water moves over skin and stone, carrying memory, accent, breath, and hunger at the same time.

The structure follows that tension. Whispered origin stories dissolve into pulse, an operatic rupture interrupts the groove, and the beat keeps returning, thicker, warmer, more insistent. Purification, erosion, and touch fold into each other. Gold appears not as wealth but as residue—what settles after pressure, time, and friction have done their work.

This is not about possession or payoff. It’s about glow, about softness surviving heat, about value that can’t be flashed or cashed. When I say “offer gold, never cash,” I’m speaking from the riverbed—where what shines does so quietly, waiting for light, waiting for someone willing to feel rather than to buy!

RIVERS OF GOLD!

kiss me

she wanna

ᴏɴ ᴍʏ ᴏᴡɴ

Feisty

silence (skip to 10 sec)

HOLD YOU

OUTSIDE

queens

dont blame me

umbrella

dont blame me

nsturaly

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