[Intro: Psyonik]
It’s a crying shame
This art form has become soulless
Solely to be sold while siphoning souls from the vessels with voices
Choices are no longer parts of the contract, so hip hop contracts diseases
Created in a million dollar laboratory
The stories told between the lies, between the lines, between the singles they try to call hip hop, is a crying shame
[Verse 1: Psyonik]
It’s a crying shame ya’ll chasin a dying flame
Like trying to fly a plane remotely inside a train
On a that runaway status, that one a day status
Like trying to make it rain on a summer day sadness
This an art form, somethin’ to make your heart warm
Don’t make sense to be a comet in a star storm
Just show them who you are youngin
Make sure you finish if you ever think to start somethin
You the Luther King, I’m sure you gotta dream
I’m sure you got a lotta plans for you and your team
See I’m the dreadlock ninja, assassinate your pride
But wake your soul up enough for you to make a stride
Take a step in the direction where your soul stays
Make sure you plant those feet and that the soles stay
Never be ashamed crying
Everybody in life must face the same lion
[Verse 2: Local-K]
I am nothing but a thought incomplete
A birth certificate is insignificant when you're me
A name coincident though equivalent to that of a beast
Pain is imminent when faced with the wrath of a wolverine
The path chosen is woven by my foes and enemies
But my focus is intricate, I'm truly infinite
Omnipotent, It was I Jehovah was witnessing
More over, I was exiled due to my insolence
That wasn't holy water at my Christening
Within my belligerence are secrets to success, so listen in
I'm Phil Jackson my pen is full of zen
A revolution and nothing less, I'm tryna' implement
See the execution is crucial, I'm born vigilant
Waiting on miracles like I'm tryna' watch the Pistons win
With my mind as my instrument, my word is bond
These are Adrian Peterson ligaments, I'm Viking strong
[Verse 3: Shad Fer]
Too many kids tryna be rappers and too many bad rappers already
And it ain’t about the craft yo, it’s half getting ya stacks up
Other half is getting head from them bad chicks in bed
And it’s embedded in your soul, wearing gold, letting hoes
Get a hold on your heart then a gold card for clothes
To buy then they push out, Kunta Kinte whip the kush out
Still a slave to the hood route, Barack Obama armor but my bush loud
In the business of killing the critics without a lookout
And if I sense a witness I'mma flip out, still stick the dismount
Cause this for you listen to and snitch bout
A nigga had to switch styles just to get paid to perform
And I'm appalled but they applaud so I'mma make it the norm
Often ask God why I’m Bahamian born
But the answer to that’s contained in my songs
Could find shade in the palms or I could bathe in the sun
But I stay raising the bar to places you ain't gonna come
[Verse 4: Chop]
Back at home, I'm from a spot, where cops would pass us slow
Packin-O's, parks with backboards but didn't have no goals
Funny, cause some us turned addicts, to relax the load
Adderalls, we could bring that rock up to Abbey Road
Pretend-we-no-one, plenty misnomers, for those who pull us over
Lookin over shoulders, that kush-odor, will give us both up
A Little older, we was just petty-soldiers, to get us noticed
Switch from coke-white to penny loafers, and sandy sofas
Sammy Sosa, that thug image done lost it's color
Start to shudder, coulda been me, shit I lost a brother
Spark-the-dutch-up, as high as gutters, but still be under
Stressed out, in a cess-cloud, that's deception fa ya
Look-Alive, I'm so damn scared to look inside
For Shore, we ride, Cause Doors don't open up as much as snooki's thighs
Bullshit aside, for these lines i want a pulitzer prize
But I'm more closer to get a spitzer from a nigga's nine
[Verse 5: Isaiah G]
Let me ask enough, if you can last the rough
This for my niggas putting shit up in the plastic cup
A crying shame, just eating a lions game
I travel Orion's plane to keep my britches up
Then fisticuffs with the mischievous, I'm Schindler with a list of us
To take out, while you make out I fake routes
Like receivers nigga, make y'all won't even gon believe this nigga
Make his mom and dad wife and children wanna leave this nigga
I heave and shiver, from withdrawal from the league of sinners
Terrorize the city like Katrina nigga, cause I'm on
The same tricks, just run up on sane clicks
Then attack and leave em shook like Kawhi in game six
I'm anxious, my patience is awfully lean
Utter a syllable I crunch him like some coffee beans
Cut him like he's off the team, cause he ain't ever bout to get back
You quit that, or I rip his body like some fucking gift wrap
Prolly call it a mishap, the judge give me a wrist slap
Then I leave the pen and do the same shit like I missed that
Now, I relish more the times I was let a shore
Cause I get to keep it all 3 Hunna like my credit score
But not poverty bars, I'm positive y'all, possibly cause
I don't just own you niggas I deposited y'all
Utter a homophobic slur just like I closeted y'all
I shoot a nigga for his kicks I foam posited y'all
Look, I was crying shame but its over now
Cause my tears dried and now I gotta cold shoulder, wow
