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Him

Denzel Curry, HIM Movie

2:12•Album Him • 2025-09-18

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Description

A loud, self-assured invasion - as if someone in a backwards jacket is declaring himself the king of darkness and waiting for applause. On top of money, smoke, and loans - rituals for status, where the soul is put on display with a “for sale” tag.

Here, boasting is mixed with doubt: the voice sometimes shouts “who am I?”, then grimly winks “I am H I am,” as if it has already forgotten who it was in the morning. An ironic note: greatness on the rise, faith broken, and even the devil in this story looks like a bored PR manager.

The song is like a note in a diary after a sleepless night: a lot of noise, a little ritual, a little more emptiness that they try to patch up with smoke and a clone of success. The result is a feeling of a performance where the applause is bought, and the question of the price of the soul hangs in the air like the last chord.

Composer, lyricist, producer: Powers Pleasant

Producer, composer, lyricist: Bobby Crlik

Sound engineer: Adam Clark

Mixing engineer: Nate Burgess

Mastering: Ruben Cohen

Composer, lyricist: Denzel Curry

© 2025 Universal Studios, Under license to Loma Vista Recordings. Distributed by Concord. ℗ 2025 Universal Studios, Under license to Loma Vista Recordings. Distributed by Concord. ©

Lyrics and translation

Original

Through fake smiles and hugs, they want me for my buzz.

And it's kinda hard to tell from who I am and who I was. I place no one above my fame, my fans, and funds.

The devil trying to trap me saying I'm the chosen one, but why?

'Cause I'm H-I-M, 'cause I'm H-I-M, high damn. 'Cause I'm H-I-M, 'cause I'm H-I-M, high damn. 'Cause

I'm H-I-M, 'cause I'm H-I-M, high damn.

'Cause I'm H-I-M, 'cause I'm H-I-M, high damn. It's the meniscus, master blood practices, cursed by extravagance.

The depths in my mind is the black abyss, the devil's advocate.

My magic trick is to convince the world that I don't exist.

Addicted to money and infinite power and diamond encrusted nooses lit, bitch. Been sedated, I awaken to be more than famous.

All situations slowly sob, I sold my soul for status. Sacrifice, you sacrilege it.

All of these bitches gon' have an attack.

This ain't devil's lettuce, this a motherfucking soul pact, bitch.

Through fake smiles and hugs, they want me for my buzz. And it's kinda hard to tell from who I am and who I was.

I place no one above my fame, my fans, and funds.

The devil trying to trap me saying I'm the chosen one, but why? 'Cause I'm H-I-M, 'cause I'm H-I-M, high damn.

'Cause I'm H-I-M, 'cause I'm H-I-M, high damn. 'Cause I'm H-I-M, 'cause I'm H-I-M, high damn. 'Cause

I'm H-I-M, 'cause I'm H-I-M, high damn.

Soon as I become the greatest, now my ex wanna suck it like degeneration.

Never exhibited patience, I'm surrounded by succubus, energy taken. Pants naked, ass shaking, cash making, smoked out.

Gas chamber, last thing I seen was demons coked out.

Blinded by money and women and clout. Give you my soul then I turn to a Faust.

I can't tell the difference between who I was from then and now. Sacrifice, you sacrilege it.

Slaughtering armies, that's all on my back. 'Cause I'm H-I-M, I don't need no fucking soul pact, bitch.

You look up to hell,

I look up to God, ayy. You look up to hell,

I look up to God, ayy. You look up to hell,

I look up to God, ayy. You look up to hell,

I look up to God.

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