Immortel drops you into a neon-lit maze where GIMS darts between swagger and suspicion, wealth and worry. He paints a world in which we chase happiness without ever quite spotting it, where even the shampoo might be laced with danger, and where money, status, and social media noise drown out real connections. References to secret doors like the mythical Bifröst or shadowy figures ruling the planet set a paranoid, almost comic-book tone, making the song feel like a cinematic heist of modern life’s hypocrisies.
Yet beneath the witty punchlines and pop-culture name-drops, GIMS wrestles with deeper questions: What does it mean to be powerful, to be immortal? He flexes like a crime-series antihero, brags about bling, then admits he is still stunned by fatherhood and hungry for lyrics with substance, not just flash. Immortel becomes a self-portrait of someone determined to leave a lasting mark while navigating a chaotic society where truth is slippery, money rules the scoreboard, and only those who adapt will “see who’s the strongest” in the end.