The Pauper & The Patriot

Mykele's Verse:

Two cogent truths separated at birth

The first one was a condition

Second one was a curse

Their mother sang and she screamed

With her womb full of dreams

They gave her drugs for the cuts

And then they sewed her back up

They stole them

And when I say that I really mean us

Theiving kids of yesterday's prophets dollars looking like Jesus

Please us or risk looking sacrilegious

Don't insult my indigenous tinge, I think you're starting to sound treasonous even

Fistfighting heathenous demons locking eyes with my freedom

Sychronize the time to free them

Pay them pennies it's still currently currency in my book

Think I'm bout to go full crook

Just take a bit of what I need and pack my pockets with what I want

That's what this country's bout don't gotta front

Claiming the wilds of dead America

Shiny bones be scaring ya

Whiffing the funk of your own musk

Them watery eyes don't know who to trust

This mighty sorrow packs a punch

Staking out to find free lunch

It might be you so best to think it through

That same dream that made you wealthy made me human stew

Yelling "indictment!" from the gallows as the pigeons flew

A noose was formed with the umbilical, this country knew, to strangle you & you & me too, ya dig?

Chrous:

In the scheme we're all just kids leaning slightly towards the light of where the punctuation ends
You take a knife for your beliefs
I take a bite to fill my ribs
We're just a pauper & a patriot
Wondering where the safety's at

(Malci repeats chorus)

Malci Verse:

I got the diesel with me like I'm d wade in 05/
I'm so fried
Plus the liquor keeps my tongue tied/
I wonder why
I make the time to make my mind stutter/
Faded in the morning, trading spliffs with my brothers/
And they all drilling like we playing dig dug/
Red rum to the fox anchors painting us as thugs/
Pass drugs to the whole block and come back with hand cuffs/
Then shoot when our hands up/
Now if that ain't fucked up/
Keep the cycle spinning like its ghost rider/
I said I'd stifle the venom-- I pulled the rope tighter/
I seen the homies caught up-- all the feds' is spiders/
If Peter Parker lit a spliff, bet he'd get a write up/
Stuck in dots and loops like a prisoner of Mars/
Crooked 12 ain't scared to shoot so it's in earth or bars/
And the judge saying life like we ain't fucking people/
Same reason I'm blowing on this diesel/ evil