The Redacted Files

[Intro] (Sound of a news ticker, followed by a heavy bass drop) Yeah. They think we aren't watching. They think the ink stays black forever. Check the files. Check the receipts. It’s time to wake 'em up. [Hook] The rich get a pass while the poor get the cage, We’re living through the files and the "New Gilded Age." Prices on the ceiling, families on the run, They’re trading human lives just to say that they won. Impeach the greed, expose the names, The city’s getting cold while they fan the flames. Yeah, the city’s getting cold while they fan the flames. [Verse 1: The Epstein Shadow] Three million pages, but they still hid the faces, Redacted the titans, they scrubbin' the traces. We saw the leaked photos, the girls in the frame, But the "Power Brokers" still dodge all the blame. From the Island to the Boardroom, the links never end, They call it "hearsay" to protect a "best friend." While the victims stand up, tellin' stories so cold, The justice we’re promised is still being sold. [Hook] The rich get a pass while the poor get the cage, We’re living through the files and the "New Gilded Age." Prices on the ceiling, families on the run, They’re trading human lives just to say that they won. Impeach the greed, expose the names, The city’s getting cold while they fan the flames. [Verse 2: The Economic Breaking Point] Recession is knockin', the GDP slowin', Tariffs hittin' hard, but the prices keep growin'. A thousand-dollar tax on the average home, While they playin' "Emperor" on a golden throne. Articles filed for the bribes and the greed, "Abuse of power" is the only thing they breed. Impeach for the Greenland stunt, or the trade war heat, 'Cause the "Art of the Deal" left us starvin' on the street. [Bridge] (Music strips back to just a haunting melody) It’s not just numbers, it’s not just a chart. It’s a mother in a cell, it’s a family torn apart. They talk about "Safety," they talk about "Laws," But look at the blood on their federal claws. [Verse 3: The ICE Crisis] 2025, the deadliest year on the books, Thirty-two souls gone, caught on the hooks. From Genry in Hialeah, couldn't even breathe, To Randall flown home just to die and to leave. Seventy percent with no crime on their name, Just kids and the fathers caught up in the game. They scream for a doctor, they met with neglect, How many more die 'fore we give 'em respect? [Final Hook] The rich get a pass while the poor get the cage, We’re living through the files and the "New Gilded Age." Prices on the ceiling, families on the run, They’re trading human lives just to say that they won. Impeach the greed, expose the names, The city’s getting cold while they fan the flames. [Outro] (Sound of sirens fading out) We see the redactions. We see the prices. We see the families. History is recording... and we got the mic. (Silence) @rapfame_official