D-2 opens with Moonlight, and right from the first line, Suga reintroduces himself as Agust D. The track feels like a diary entry written under the same moon that watched him move from a basement studio in Namsandong, Daegu, to a penthouse in Hannam Hill, Seoul. He talks about the tension between his ideals and the reality he lives now, and it hits because all of us, at some point, wonder if what we are doing is enough. He questions his dreams, his love for music, the expectations tied to his many labels, and the constant push and pull of his choices. But the moon stays still, shining the same way it always has. That idea, that something steady exists even when you change, is strangely comforting. We all have that one constant, and he sings to it.
Then comes Daechwita, explosive and impossible to ignore. The title literally means “great blowing and hitting,” a traditional Korean military music style built from wind and percussion. The track opens with chants of “Daechwita, Daechwita, play it loud,” and honestly, it is made to be felt more than analysed. The visuals, the sword choreography he trained so hard for, the roaring production, everything pulls you in.

When he raps “Born as a slave, risen to a king,” he explains his journey before and after BTS with a sharp honesty. It’s a diss track at its core, but also a conversation between different versions of himself. The music video takes this further, showing the new Agust D confronting the king he has become without ever forgetting where he started. It’s loud, proud, rooted, and such a complete bop.
What do you think? keeps that fire alive. If Daechwita is power, this one is confidence. It is Suga saying he doesn’t care about people’s opinions anymore. He has heard every insult thrown at BTS, every debate about whether they count as “real rappers,” every claim that idol music isn’t music. And he answers all of it with a relaxed, sarcastic tone that can only come from someone who has outgrown the noise. There is pride here, but also acceptance. You see how long his journey has been and how much of himself he has poured into it. It is one of my favourites because he is unapologetically Yoongi.
Next is Strange featuring RM, a track where two best friends of over a decade dissect a world ruled by capitalism and contradiction. They talk about how hope is used as a drug, how polarization divides everything, and how society calls someone “blind” just for seeing clearly. One of my favourite lines talks about how dreams get replaced and yet we are still told to dream. Both of them rap in parallel patterns, almost like two sides of the same mirror.
28 with NiiHWA softens the pace. Suga wonders if he is growing up too fast, forgetting the dreams he once had. Even as someone younger than him, I feel the emotion in that fear. Where the world moves so quickly you barely recognise your own thoughts sometimes. It is gentle, steady, and quietly heartbreaking.
In Burn It featuring MAX, he faces his past, wondering what would remain if he burned the version of himself filled with jealousy, inferiority, sorrow, and desire. The final verse lands strong; your choices are yours, and even giving up can be courage. That line stayed with me because it came from something he once told a fan, and it shows how deeply he thinks about people.
Then we come to People. The track starts with a soft bell-like sound that feels like a small comfort in itself. He asks if he is a good person, then realises he “just is.”
The line “Who said humans are the animals of wisdom? To me, it looks like they’re the animals of regret” stands out so much. It shows how often we live with regret more than with wisdom. He talks about how everything changes; people, pain, love, habits, and how what is “ordinary” for everyone else was special to him. Losing that ordinary life was his biggest change. People feels like a reminder that everyone is going through something, and that it will pass, even if it doesn’t feel like it now.
Honsool is an abbreviation for the process of drinking alone and relaxing. It is a term often used in Korea to describe the process of spending time alone away from work or people. In this track, he walks us through his routine after a long day of coming home tired, taking a shower, sitting down with a drink, and deciding not to think about tomorrow yet. He jokes that he once thought being a superstar meant wild parties, but the reality is exhaustion and pressure. The song has a soft tune with a slightly robotic undertone, like his mind is shutting out the noise for a while. We all have our own version of this kind of escape, and it’s nice that he wrote his into a song that carries that same lazy, cosy mood.
Interlude: Set Me Free feels like a late night thought. He sings about wanting to be set free from confusion and an ache that comes and goes, even though he knows it’s not that simple. The song almost feels like sitting by a window, staring outside, thinking about everything but also nothing. It gives that spaced out feeling where you are outside your own life for a second, just watching it.
Finally, Dear My Friend (ft. Kim Jong-wan of NELL) closes the album on a very personal note. He talks directly to an old friend from Daegu, someone he used to share dreams and courage with, who later ended up in prison. The song sounds like an inner monologue, full of memories of nights where they felt like the world couldn’t scare them, and questions about whether things would be different if he had stopped him back then. There’s anger, guilt, and love all tangled together, but also acceptance that the person they once were to each other doesn’t exist anymore. It feels like a distant memory told near a fireplace on a winter night.
D-2 is a composition of everything Yoongi felt in the past and his process of dealing with them, which led him to what he is today. The entire album looks very inward, turning the most personal messy feelings into lines that somehow make sense of your own life too. The words may sound simple at first, but there is something strangely healing about how they are spoken. He is not trying to fix you, but just sits next to you while you discover your truth. And this album sure does a great job reminding us of that, again and again.
Written By: Samhitha Avvari
About the author: Samhitha is an avid hobbyist, exploring writing, photography and personal blogging through intention and curiosity. She hopes to build a personal archive that reflects her journey, and the way she sees the world. She believes in romanticising the ordinary, maximising life with every experience, in a world that often feels fast. Her creative practice is rooted in capturing casual magic; like the light on a street corner, ducks in the park, a sentence worth remembering. Samhitha is fascinated by the interplay between language shaping identity, connection, and expression, with a particular interest in Korean language and society.

