Gashadokuro

I’ll be a skeleton, still spitting stupid raps
Agitating the authorities in black
Yelling at 'em that their classists
And all this other petty bougie wackness
Been losing my temper, I’m my dad’s kid
Uh, I ain’t a Nietzschean but still been gazing in the void
Feeling paranoid and hear the coyness in my broken voice
When I try and talk but often all of yall are only noise
Offering a thought although I know there ain’t a fuckin' choice
Pardon if I’m getting aggressive, I guess
I gotta a lot of friends and they’re living in a lot of debt, so
I’ve been stuck on how to get everyone to hear what they’ve said
But America’s still racist and it hates the poor with every breath
This spectacle is living in our thoughts
Like a bomb or assurances of what is right and wrong
Like a song, I’m unsure of to whom victory belongs
But if it’s either you or me, then you’re gone, so long
This is a place that’s not too uncommonly found
It’s where the living go in and the dead come out
The living go in and the dead come out
The living go in and the dead come out
This is a place that’s not too uncommonly found
It’s where the living go in and the dead come out
The living go in and the dead come out
The living go in and the dead come out
This is a place that’s not too uncommonly found
It’s where the living go in and the dead come out
The living go in and the dead come out
The living go in and the dead come out
This is a place that’s not too uncommonly found
It’s where the living go in and the dead come out
The living go in and the dead come out
The living go in and the dead come out