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• Artiste: Marlon Craft
• Titre: Find Me
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Gaza Strip gettin' lynched, we supplyin' the chips Helpless, we help less and we lie to exist If I cry and I sit or am online decryin' the shit Inside of this system, don't know if defiance exists, violence persists Electoral bodies cancerously gerrymandered, we just vyin' for cysts Used to reply with my wit and put pen to page in these times But the sense I can make change with my age, it declines I'm in a stage to describe would be paradox I see the roles that I've played and I've cared a lot Still self-servin' to serve yourself for the right team, though Privileged people givin' answers over ice cream, woah What's a prophet in a land where you have to designate you not-for-profit just to profit from the right things? Where info fake as celebrities' lips Same ones we think can save us if they said what we think Lotta yes chefs don't question the recipe, shit Why you think every four to eight, we change parties? The pendulum swings Shit, I'm writin' this while hopin' that the Jets get a win My morality confused at all times, my moods is offsides You snooze your humanity enough, it's gon' be too late to all rise Soul of the people is alive But if we can't separate the tech, then a part died I know there's got to be somethin' better I know, I hope I'm told the times, they change like the weather But I've grown cold I been burnt out, I been afraid Tryna purge doubt, how you burn age? Hand full of ashes from tryna turn pages But I know I'ma find me a way Rejection isn't a plan, deflection isn't a stance Attention seem to be currency, time what else it span? We can't seem to sustain it on anything that's attainable We content to be fans Or have fans, but what's the difference, really? The evil in this world has set the litmus, really They've held their focus and their grasp for centuries to achieve We been paid off with dopamine and streamin' TV So please don't pledge your allegiance to me I mean, it's not in my best interest, but you need to be free I pray the labor I can do enough to feed me But the day I no longer make these words with my hands I concede me, got permission to leave me All you really ever owe me is GP I gotta go before the Knicks blow this lead, B I'm on the wax, in the ink if you need me, yeah I know there's got to be somethin' better I know, I hope I'm told the times, they change like the weather But I've grown cold I been burnt out, I been afraid Tryna purge doubt, how you burn age? Hand full of ashes from tryna turn pages But I know I'ma find me a way