Trapped
Relate through music, open house, people visiting
Time for a change, can you grapple?
Hip-hop playing in the Sistine Chapel
Heard souls were bought, knew it couldn't be actual
Classical was lost, art no longer magical
Cats try to do this for the wrong reasons
Opposite to mine, pour emotions on this mic
Call it soul shine
Do it for my love, do it for my self-control
Creating from passion, I withhold
It's amazing how the universe unfolds
Travel down a strange road to get where you're going
Opportunities, at last I'm pursuing
Running in the wild, I'm a child with a mild mind state
Feeling great till the day I reach the Golden Gates
Figure out situations
Write it down, illustrate, learning from mistakes
Increase my pace in this race
The chase is on
The chase is on
The chase is on
We do this for the passion, we do this for the love
Music runs with my tears and it flows with my blood
We cling to the microphone to set our soul free
Cause we're trapped in a world that wasn't meant for we
Do you even realize what this actually means?
The commodification of mind, body, and soul
The natives found the land but someone made them go
You know the Trail of Tears, disease infested blankets
Cortez destroyed the Aztecs, now their memories are ancient
Capitalism buys your time, forced to live inside these lines
Forced to build another zombie of a mind
For years I have cried, tears backed by a dam
Advertisements, propaganda, what defines a man?
Inside every office, in every plan, evil lurks
White is said to be so pure but it's tainted with dirt
Sell your soul to the company, they'll put you to work
For minimum wage and no benefits, at least we got church
But even they need your money, that's how my pops got paid
Welcome to America where hypocrisy's made
I'm destined for greater things than spitting about diamond rings
Late in the night, my conscious, it screams
Shattered dreams doused like mini light beams
Cause no one wants to listen if you ain't talking bling
But I don't give a damn if I don't sell a thing
I'ma keep making songs, if only for me
Rescue me, if I ever go astray
And stop putting thought into the words that I say
I'm always looking for a better way to make it through my everyday
It seems my thoughts have drifted toward the MilkyWay
I hear em say I long to be a kid again
And never worry what changes with the wind
I'm so sick of the shallowness we bathe ourselves in
I'd give it all back for ignorance again
Forget Paris H., forget Pac Man
Forget Rosie, who's this Trump man?
Forget Al-Qaeda, forget George Bush
Forget all this bull, I wish that we could.
Autor(es): Daniel Smotherman, Gregory Jerome, Joshua Grosch, Joshua Smotherman