murda music, dont pursue it less you devoting your life to it, this game will eat you up, spend every ounce till you cant do it. hold you down till youre very will is nothing more than a footnote, and ring you out of your lifes visions, blurring to Picasso. wether intentional, dissension flows from the bottom ranks to the tip of the pole, burry me deep where i reap your soul, from the cradle to the casket to pastures past the farthest star. never me, not the one to be drawn to the flame like a moth, lead the pack to the cause. fuck em. blind to to the ways serpents to the ears, contort the powers to fears, transform your rulers from peers. but im controlling the sound, sending waves through the air, hope that it disgrace your ears let you on to the er, of there ways. ten thousand years and a billion graves, casted chains from the broken slaves, blood and flames and natives tamed. plot the course still to the flames and hold it steady through your pain. ill never look back again, back to the torture and vast pain, to the tormentor for fast gains, lamented fools keeping prison gates. fuck Donald trump and the biden games, tar and feather these politicians stuffing blood money in the banks. take the power back, to the people that have a brain, quit giving in to the system that provides all these fucking chains.