#MartyrAtWork Never notice the plight Never bother to fight Always turning an eye When shit go bump in the night The fear, and the fright Got us drawing up imaginary lines And smothering sight When we looking for light Burried alive Yet we struggle to thrive But barely survive Like cattle categorized And eternalize Only hate and despise when Every one and everything comes as fucked up surprise Martyrs are people who died a genuine person They saw something and went for it, put the work in Didn't follow a script, or look for the spot light They only did what felt right, fine Justify your actions, I dont need your side I'm just saying not everyone is blessed with a long life, they know who they are and you could guess the reason why They be speaking truth and get caught in a crossfire Politicians and liars, freedom fighters, And haters for hire here, now and seemingly evermore theirs always a war Deceptive endeavor's, agendas brought disease without cure And here we are in the middle of the pimp and the whore Money in a drawer, used Accountants are never bored All money work to do is separate you and I And now we leading two different lives And distrusting the other side. Pulling guns and knives When we're one of a kind Bleeding the same red And seeing the same sky A battle unending, factions looking to score But we the ball that they kicking, and the shoes they wearing when they dragging they feet through the markets and swearing bout how the cashier was rude and the shelves were stocked poor.. Like they aint staring at the same folk who starving and sore working and fighting, and dying in their wars. For fabricated bullshit and comfort gallore Fuck em. Let them scavenge their own food like we do, evermore. Sure you might feel like saying it's my opinion. A bad day once and no other is reason needed. Thats only from the one direction that you perceiving when you barely scraping by who takes the punches and beatings trucking through every season Dragging boulders up the hill willing themselves to keep breathing a fight of desperation Warriors be believing the martyrs who die trying To bring us a clearer vision Are sick, starving and barfing, working hard and not sleepin yet still poverty stricken, cold, or homeless and living on the streets, for those same bitches to keep shitting where we sleep and throwing bones and rotting food thinking we don't deserve to eat. All money work to do is separate you and I And now we leading two different lives And distrusting the other side. Pulling guns and knives When we're one of a kind Bleeding the same red And seeing the same sky and despite the fact that we're living a lie few choose to lift their head or bother to ask why and then we die never knowing what it was like to live or be alive too busy to breath, or eat, believe or even dream it seems we beings fell through the seams and got lost in a space between from which we cant be reteieved and no one wants to spend the time looking for what once was because they forgot they was one of us and we were one of a kind. shit was planned and put into action and now every single mother fucker gunning up another brotha, taking lives, husband and wives, watch another child die and a family cry why? whos it ever helping? all the people you cant speak about. they raking the wealth in aint it a sin we needin the win, to save our kin everybody who been suffering trying to shake off the blows and stave off the gutter we need one another so remember next time you decide to lift your hand with a weapon think what if we was all facing the same direction All money work to do is separate you and I And now we leading two different lives And distrusting the other side. Pulling guns and knives When we're one of a kind Bleeding the same red And seeing the same sky