Artist discusses industry exploitation

Let me tell you something, Wendy. I was fifteen.

Fifteen. A little girl from the islands who just

wanted to sing.

And Jay-Z didn't sign me to a record deal, he signed me to a soul

contract. You hear me? A soul contract.

Don't look so shocked.

You've been calling this out for years. You always knew.

They made me pay homage to Lucifer.

Told me if I refuse, I'd never work again.

If I talked, I'd never see my family again.

And if I tried to run, they'd throw me off that damn rooftop.

I was a child, Wendy. A child.

Look at my early videos. Every single one, the all-seeing

eye, the hand signals, the horn symbols.

Ugh.

I was forced to perform as an industry

slave promoting the darkness.

You think I wanted to do that? You think that was my idea? Hell no.

But they owned me, body and soul. Every move

I made, every word I sang, it was all for them.

They own everyone, Wendy. Every pop star, every rapper,

every actor.

Ugh, we're all slaves to the system.

Some of us just don't know it yet