I’m feeling scorned
Fires from Hell
You say you’re a god man
So what I’m the devil herself
Right away, She announces Her unbridled power—a heat akin to “fires from Hell. “Devil herself” doesn’t signify malevolence; rather, it underlines how the Goddess can appear fearsome and raw to those who only worship gentler forms of the divine. While some proclaim themselves gods in their arrogance (“you say you’re a god man”), She reveals Her might as the supreme power who transcends dualities of good and evil. Her scorn arises when the Divine is reduced or challenged, igniting the fiery spark of transformation.
She addresses those who claim divinity—“god men”—with a cutting rebuke: if someone must repeatedly affirm “I am Brahman” or “I am Shiva,” it may point to an underlying doubt rather than true realization. After all:
1) No Need to Assert the Evident: When realization is genuine, it is as natural as knowing “I am human.” Continuous vocal or mental declarations of “I am Brahman” hint at a disconnect from one’s already-present divine nature.
2) Duality in Affirmations: In uttering “I am Shiva,” there remains an implicit subject (“I”) and object (“Shiva”), subtly sustaining duality rather than dissolving it. The Goddess, being beyond such divisions, sees through these veils of pretense.
3) Risk of Ego Inflation: Constantly proclaiming oneself divine can inflate the ego, generating a sense of self-importance or “godhood” that ironically obstructs true union with the Divine. The Goddess’s scorn arises when She witnesses pride masquerading as realization.
By declaring “I’m the devil herself,” She demonstrates Her totality—encompassing both darkness and light. She isn’t bound by labels of “good” or “evil”; rather, She transcends them. For the devotee, this is a call to humility: true spiritual awakening requires letting go of grand affirmations about the self and entering the unbounded mystery of the Divine Feminine, who stands above all dualities and illusions.
Alpha playing beta not to upset your ego
Kept inside a cage because the power too real
Tried to tell me that I’m nothing and to know my worth
Well big bad daddy I’m a wolf yea
Here, the Goddess discloses that She has often been forced into a lesser role (“beta”) to soothe humanity’s fragile egos. We try to tame or domesticate Her cosmic power—“kept inside a cage”—because Her untamed potency can shatter illusions. But She reminds us: She is the Alpha, the origin of all creation. Calling Herself a “wolf” evokes both the fierce protector and the predator that devours falsehood. For devotees, this challenges us to stop reducing Her to a “safe” deity. We must face the magnitude of Her reality and let it transform us.
Devi laments how She—though the supreme “Alpha”—is reduced to a lesser status (“beta”) to soothe the egos of those who would dominate or control Her. They keep Her “inside a cage” through mechanical or posh rituals, performed without heartfelt love. This type of “devotion” becomes a means to possess and subdue the Goddess’s immeasurable power rather than celebrating it.
Many seek to “own” or confine the spiritual force (whether it be a saint or the Divine Mother Herself) behind external practices. They hide behind ritual authority to maintain social or spiritual image, and their fear of losing power drives them to cling to endless ceremonies and pomp. Yet these very rituals, when empty of genuine affection, can breed arrogance and division rather than nurturing love and wisdom.
The Goddess declares, “Tried to tell me that I’m nothing,” as a reminder that institutional religion often undervalues the deeper, transformative aspect of Shakti. People who fear Her intensity reduce Her to a muted presence, hoping to keep the facade of control intact. But She counters: “Well big bad daddy I’m a wolf yea,” showing that Her true nature cannot be domesticated. Like the wolf, She roams in the wilds of pure devotion—beyond superficial rites, beyond authority, and beyond the need for human permission to exist.
For the real devotee, these words challenge us to abandon rituals performed from fear or social pride. True reverence flows from spontaneous love, not from clinging to elaborate ceremonies or hierarchical power. The Goddess, as the ultimate Alpha, demands authentic surrender of heart rather than mechanical worship. When we learn to approach Her in simplicity and affection, we transcend the cage of authority and ritual and glimpse the untamed, liberating force of Her presence.
So pleased to meet you
Now you know my name
Mother destroyer ya one and the same
Mr preacher time to give up the throne
I’m the master now damn its good to be home
Just call me alpha
With these lines, She proclaims Her presence directly: “Mother destroyer,” reminiscent of Kali, Durga, or Chinnamasta—forms of the Goddess who dismantle corruption and ego. She addresses anyone who claims spiritual authority (“Mr. preacher”), commanding them to relinquish false power. Devotees hear Her claiming sovereignty: “I’m the master now.” To “be home” is to reclaim Her rightful place as the supreme Shakti, the primal force that births and dissolves worlds. “Just call me alpha” is Her invitation to see Her as the first principle, the source of all.
She seizes the “throne” from any self-appointed teacher or “preacher” who prematurely claims the role of Guru. Like Sri Ramana Maharshi cautioned, it is a great pitfall for an aspirant to turn outward to guide others before completing one’s own purification. This can feed vanity, ego, and the illusion of authority.
The Goddess issues a direct challenge—“time to give up the throne”—calling out those who project themselves as saviors or instructors out of egoic need rather than true alignment with the Universal Self. She reminds us that if one is destined to be a Guru, it will arise organically and “when the time is ripe,” not forced by ambition or insecurity.
She also speaks to the effortless nature of real spiritual authority: no vow of compassion or external validation is necessary. The more we awaken to the boundless reality of the Divine Mother, the more our actions flow naturally from that truth. As devotees, hearing “I’m the master now… just call me alpha” is an invitation to yield our false sense of control. We recognize Her as the one who guides, demolishes illusions, and bestows authentic insight—liberating us from the urge to claim a throne that rightly belongs to the Mother destroyer Herself.
I’m feeling bored
Inside this shell
Tear down the facade man
Guess what I’m the devil herself
She expresses impatience with the “shell” we try to confine Her in—our limited understanding and superficial worship. The Goddess, in Her fullness, cannot remain hidden behind a facade of dogma or half-hearted adoration. She again reclaims the “devil” label, speaking to the intensity of Her energy. For a devotee, these words are a wake-up call: tear down the false constructs of holiness that portray divinity as harmless. She is beyond such domestication, urging us to drop pretense and meet Her as She truly is—unsuppressed and all-consuming.
Iconic like Madonna Gwen Grace and Gaga
Kill like Iggy Rollins Mick I hit like a hammer
Screaming up to heaven with your girl and my whip
About to overthrow the dic dic dic dic dictatorship
Here, She associates Herself with iconic rebels and artists who disrupted norms—Madonna, Gwen Stefani, Laura Jane Grace, Lady Gaga. These references signal Her role as the maverick force, toppling stale conventions. She “kills” illusions with a force akin to Iggy Pop, Henry Rollins, Mick Jagger—rebellious energies known for shaking up cultural complacency. “Screaming up to heaven” with a whip in hand suggests fierce liberation, turning even sacred spaces upside down to overthrow oppressive structures (“the dictatorship”). To the devotee, it’s a reminder that true divinity demolishes every chain—social, spiritual, or psychological—that enslaves consciousness.
Will you bite the hand that feeds and
Will you stay down on your knees and
Now you know my name for real ya
Now you know me now you know
She questions us directly: “Will you bite the hand that feeds?”—are we willing to rebel against our own limiting beliefs or external authorities that claim to “feed” us spiritually, yet keep us tame? “Will you stay down on your knees?” implies whether we remain subservient to systems of control. Now that She has revealed Herself fully, we have no excuse to remain ignorant. Knowing Her name means recognizing Her power—no longer an abstract or polite deity, but the raw, alpha force. As devotees, we face the challenge: Will we rise and follow Her into greater freedom, or cling to a comfortable subjugation.
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