Cyne - 400 Years (Seth P. Brundel / Algorithm Mix) lyrics

[Verse 1 – Akin] I'm pa**ing God's conception Approaching near the land deception Adjust the mirror, in my rearview I see reflection At times my highways lead to bleak direction So I seek confession speaking to beats I call it resurrection cause I got my soul back Some call me pro-black Really, I'm just playing my part—I could've sold crack It's not for me. My old man thought of prophecy Kwame Nkrumah's vision live in my odyssey For real. But not your Homer in Greek mythology Akin devise schemes to conquer this trickology The time is now to forsake the faking I'm freedom in the making God's kitchen chef rock a frigid apron [Hook x2] Ayo, for 400 years we shed tears And when it's d**h among peers, we pour beers But now what? Just look what the world made me, enslaved me But at the end, yo what the f** is gonna save me? [Verse 2 – Cise Starr] My pulse quickening as my heart became a simile I drift into the reaches of self, I felt panicky Hoping for anarchy, liberation from this insanity Tears running down my cheek hit the canopy Wall of self doubt, shout scream and wail At the pain coursing through my being—I'm in a hell Of thought. Caught between a rock and hard place My personal space violated, catching a case I can even taste the bittersweet smell of defeat I'm feeling the heat of blood running down in the street Then look where I stand My shadow is the trace of a man That endured the hardships, formulating a plan [Hook x2] Ayo, for 400 years we shed tears And when it's d**h among peers, we pour beers But now what? Just look what the world made me, enslaved me But at the end, yo what the f** is gonna save me? [Verse 3 – Akin] System ridiculous, they fabricate lies. Now I'm sick of this Like people with syphilis still trying to cripple this will Revolution rap attack Pope Nicholas. Chill. Don't ever tell me that Lies, they try to sell me that I can't afford it Your evolution get aborted Let it be known I don't condone thrones in Rome Call it prejudice, I sever this mic with a poem Folks will hate to see this, mercenaries out for Jesus Live from the pearly white gates about to squeeze. Is Godly back? Confederate flags, I'm held hostage No forty acres and mule. Abused profits No forty acres and mule. Abused profits [Verse 4 – Cise Starr] I'm breaking these shackles they got me chained away from my liberty Look at the history, how they treated us through the centuries Like inanimate animals only given annual holidays Representin' hardships we endure today That's not enough What the f** we getting comfortable now Looking like clowns while industry is taking our crowns And tarnishing our soul Trading our worth for platinum and gold Our souls are undersold, for what? Semiprecious pieces of metal, value changing with time Open your eyes we need to rise Open your eyes we need to rise Open your eyes we need to rise [Outro] "The mere possession of knowledge is not enough. It is the ability to use knowledge that matters."