There's a pit in my stomach
Standing, idly by, see,
You punched me in my time
Slots spinning in my mind
Stuck, relying on the grind, but
**** your "authority". I
Find it kinda ironic how,
Businesses are built from the ground
but, Up at the peak peeking down,
Sits vultures, who's ***** seeping out
Slick sick liquid so stout,
Poisoned souls, lost in a shroud
Searching for a way out of the cloud
but, it sounds too profound
to ****** the crown from your brow.
It's here, that I've found that
To sow seed, requires a plow
And, to sell **** requires a down
Payment, is owed to the old
Heads stone cold, as the bread
Hardens our hearts, to the souls
Auctioning off it's moral code
Sold to the highest bidder
Gold fingers are bitter when
Biting your nails is for dinner.
Capitalist sympathizers call me a quitter,
And Jehovahs witnesses all call me a sinner,
But my brothers and sisters consider
Smokin' some refer, the smell that still lingers
Open your pockets, I hear your silver still jingles
I see your water is filtered,
So let the minerals flow
To my bowl, pay the toll
To get the grow that you'll roll, cause
Money solves our problems when
Our problems are each other, and
There is no end in sight, so spite the
"Honor" and the blood we've spilled,
We fight to keep the flag up high
Beside our minds, to cope with all
The hopelessness of our demise
In Jesus name, I shed this tear.
Aug 3, 2016
Aug 3, 2016 at 2:48 PM UTC
There's a pit in my stomach
Standing, idly by, see,
You punched me in my time
Slots spinning in my mind
Stuck, relying on the grind, but
**** your "authority". I
Find it kinda ironic how,
Businesses are built from the ground
but, Up at the peak peeking down,
Sits vultures, who's ***** seeping out
Slick sick liquid so stout,
Poisoned souls, lost in a shroud
Searching for a way out of the cloud
but, it sounds too profound
to ****** the crown from your brow.
It's here, that I've found that
To sow seed, requires a plow
And, to sell **** requires a down
Payment, is owed to the old
Heads stone cold, as the bread
Hardens our hearts, to the souls
Auctioning off it's moral code
Sold to the highest bidder
Gold fingers are bitter when
Biting your nails is for dinner.
Capitalist sympathizers call me a quitter,
And Jehovahs witnesses all call me a sinner,
But my brothers and sisters consider
Smokin' some refer, the smell that still lingers
Open your pockets, I hear your silver still jingles
I see your water is filtered,
So let the minerals flow
To my bowl, pay the toll
To get the grow that you'll roll, cause
Money solves our problems when
Our problems are each other, and
There is no end in sight, so spite the
"Honor" and the blood we've spilled,
We fight to keep the flag up high
Beside our minds, to cope with all
The hopelessness of our demise
In Jesus name, I shed this tear.
