-Verse 1-
Uh, left arm of all my jackets smell like Camels and Cat Piss
It's always half-a-pack right beside where the flask is
You got a nickel? Come and get you splash of this
Moonshine, washin' down cornbread and catfish
Born on a river bank, cussin' in slang
Muddy Waters, thicker blood in my veins; the fifth cousin of Cain
It's easy to see us becoming estranged
Unconditional love is un-obtained, I got
Nothin' left to say, gimme somethin' I can bang
Run up in the train, take the money back and double it mayne
It's a couple thangs I'm trynna cop – must have's
bu*ter for the recipes, and some weaponry for the gun rack, uh..
-CHORUS-
Get up, get on, get right, get strong, get with it or get gone..
Got, got, got, got to get over; gotta get over to give somethin' (gimme that!)
Get mad, get buck, get loud, get lucky, get found or get f**ed, uh
Got, got, got, got to get over; gotta get over to give somethin' back..
-Verse 2-
Aiyo we small-scale farmers talkin' tons, that's a lotta weight
We at the docks shovin' off a load of harbor freight
Gods in the shipyards, they taught us how to operate
So if it's drama I'm callin' on my conglomerates
Modern phenomena's synonymous to commonplace
Y'all picked some simple sh** to complicate
Consequently monetary regulators obfuscate the nomenclature
Now you're resigned to be confined inside your office space
Workin' off a debt to owner; forget ever ownin' a home, bro
It seems to me the American Dream is over
So what we supposed to do with all these pharmaceuticals and sleep aids?
Three-eighths of my teammates are deep inside
Comas, that codeine and soda
They chiefin' that potent, no weekend spent sober
That reefer them rollin' it's keepin' us hopeful
We reach for the solar, heart beat for these moments, we goin' in..
-CHORUS-
-Verse 3-
We're on a sliding scale, buyin' burnt sh** at fire sales
These pennies like a foreign currency: shiny shells
Tiny to retail giants, sublime clientele
Deceived, but keep in mind even Goliath fell
I expel pellets and rocks from out the slingshot
Mixin' this co*ktail, the type you light and sail
Over top the citadel; rotten, they can fry in hell
It's better we try and fail than let em take us lyin' still
Lords of war trynna murder us
Florence Nightingale tyin' tourniquets
Servants of the poor, tired and frail
Raise em up, make em fly as hell
Watch over the riders of the night rail when
You do take flight from these trenches
We fightin' and dyin' in daily
We scalin' them fences
We're barely defenseless if made in his image
Imagine, envision – we smashin' them entrances in..
-CHORUS-