The 5th Universe (Finchey! Remix)

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Merciless Sun Gods

3:30

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Try to combat me
Tap me, you never had me
In the ring, leave you broken up
Straight badly
Never been type to work with commissions
Now listen, I've never made a record
For the dissin'
Subliminal messages bounce off of ya brain
Insane, keep the change, it ain't worth the pain
My plane, crash through shit like a train
Break ya neck like 2 chainz, Bane, and Bruce wayne
Imma rap artist, zap a strapped artist
Snap back to react and cap a strap artist
And you'll never see me singing with a corny
Trap artist
Fruits of the labor be taken from the laborer
Capitalism favors cravers to bring wealth to the creators
To perpetuate the theatre, brings hatred to your neighbor
Justified by "nature", captured by the slavers
Who burned all the tabors and dotted lines on the paper
King leopold killed 10 mil and set loose all the rapists
The means to the end will always grow more tapered
But if the focus is means the ends will become more cratered
Ignorant illiterates are taught to attack immigrants
Immigrants are told their enemy are just all the discriminants
Every man believes that they are just belligerents
But are told they should ignore the rich and all of the con merchants
To escape from the life people have to burn barbiturates
Kids turn to sports, break ligaments, act magnificent
Liberals allow the fascists to become more militant
And blame people for their problems when really it was the rich profligates
As time continues capitalists will grow more bold
The blind are a venue for anti-fascists to hold a mole
As we grow old we learn fit the mold
And grow mold on our minds as lives are being sold
If resistance grows it must be knocked cold
As the bakers bake bread the rich say it must be doled
In small amounts to the sick, the poor and the old
As the rich continue to bowl, eat gold and to grow
The injustice grows sixfold and the all the gremlins crow
As the poor slowly fold, pigeonholed into the fold
Many professors propose a workers manifesto
As society is locked in a garage with a running exhaust manifold
Trump paints a tapestry filled with aztec gold
Rappers spit their flow and roll their acapulco gold
Meanwhile the poor starve and continue to go cold
As the Fiends howl for their soul and burn bur marigold
Talk, about, hilarious rhymes
Criminals going off committing various crimes
Spending time in a cell. Similar to hell
It's the punishment for bringing a knife to show and tell
You dug yourself a well that reeks a certain smell
And it keeps getting deeper and I'm not a mind reader
'Cause i've got this friend mel, and I think you'd like to meet her
The illusion of happiness the absence of sappyness
The fusion of milk and honey and the reason that I'm rapping this
Hey hey what can I say
I have a whole lotta feelings but I struggle to pray.
Spend my entire day, waiting to play
But all I get is a teacher who repeats m'kays

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