I slipped upwards through the cracks,
I went places I was not allowed,
Now I am falling down,
Homie I walk through the tops of clouds,
With a Caine I am able to find heaven’s doors when the day is over,
When I came down I choked on my halo,
Chains are outdated,
They are blindlessly outrages,
The cages got replace with complantancy,
See I waited oh so patiently for happiness in all the wrong places,
Traded it for a higher state of mind and higher wages,
The races and the wages,
raised the question of waging war,
I haven't ask them yet,
and then I ask what I was waiting for,
Never paid it to much mind,
I was faded with the flow,
of the highest to know they come,
with their tie under their toe,
Nobody thinks oh no,
they think that they think,
and they go where they go,
and they blink when they blink,
and they speak when they speak,
and they drink when they drink,
There's a kink in the sink,
And I think its in the brink its the end,
But my friend if you rather just pretend,
That its fine, and find more money to spend,
I mean nothing in life is free,
Society is slily,
So the sly in me has realize that they lied to me,
I have realize that I can breathe,
Without paying the slightest fee,
But I will surely die,
If paper takes the life from trees,
But the grass is green,
The family van is filled with gasoline,
The dogs and cats are fed,
Even the trash is clean,
Cookie baking families,
7 Digit salaries,
But there is no imagining the damaging,
At first glance it seems everything is happily,
Look under the mask you will see that,
That’s a fantasy,
I am no longer impress with the best of the best,
You know big ballers don’t respect the bench,
But theres a lot going on top,
That people tend to forget,
From the breath of breath,
To the depth of death,
You know its coming soon,
But no one expects it yet,
Heaven steps just led to an electric fence,
Find the balances,
Between the projects and the palaces,
The process of progress gave my hands calluses,
Prospect of objects that obstruct the abstract,
Concept of happiness that I want to have back,
Expecting more from heavens door,
This fantasy is upsetting,
Hell is more a metaphor with unangelic settings,
You just pluck the strings,
Until your ******' fingers bled,
Forgetting all the wild,
But everything is in your head,
and no man is more wicked than the one who thinks he’s righteous,
And there no black and white here,
Only shades of blindness,
The road to happiness is easily mistaken,
God works in mysterious ways,
but so does Satan.