lyrics
They really had us thinking it was dog-eat-dog.
Naw: greed, hatred, and the law eat all.
Cleanin well-oiled machines with greased palms,
They're only gonna catch you they seein you cheat wrong.
Different day, same plague. EBKs, AKs,
rigid aim, gray planes on the street leakin shades
of intelligence and rage. Beating feet, raising cain.
Pictures over captions sayin, “It shouldn’t be” next to names,
and a pair of dates before and after a hyphen,
holdin a number smaller than twenty-five inside it.
Pilates in high places greet messiahs with violence,
and when we’re educated, we just whine like, “I’m tryin.”
Never learn from the fortunes in our palms under blood stains,
sayin “We’ll get there one day,” never leavin the runway.
The difference between wisdom and fear is a tucked chain.
Look at the sadomasochistic games Lady Luck plays,
[HOOK]
They’re loadin the dice, pretend you’re in debt
when they owe you their life
Look what they say, look what they write,
Look how they lie disrespectin their stripes
Look how they act, look at the facts:
Feds will keep watch with their hand on the trap.
you lookin out from inside of your pack
Remember we gotta stop letting em back.
Tony Accardo spent a night in a holding cell for a century of crime,
while they force Meech and the chiefs to do every second of their time.
Real talk, they let Capone slide for a minute,
until he was past his prime, and his mind syphilitic
Toxins breaking filing cabinets down to boxes.
Politicians start a riot, then pretend that they’re a hostage.
Talk this rah-rah shit, then dive to the side when
their number one fans turn their offices to moshpits.
Chickens home to roost, but big business owns the coops,
totin Tonton Macoute. Facebook and Google recruit
voting booth rubber stamps on the status quo we’re livin in.
Respect is just the minimum. The debt is ad infinitum.
White supremacy’s an illness we’ve passed
onto children, and still refuse to shield em with masks.
Powers move the pieces as we fight to a stalemate.
It’s cold at the bottom and there’s ice on the staircase.
[HOOK]
We gotta stop lettin em back...we gotta stop lettin em back...
credits
from
Trapdoor,
released November 23, 2021
(A. Levin, D. Zunikoff)
license
all rights reserved
