CORRECTAR LA LETRA

Letra : .6

[Intro]:
Somebody asked what happened
I’ll tell you

[Verse]:
I’ve seen us evolved and moving past this
We’re more inclined to burn it all and smoke the ashes
Very little communication—just dopey clashes
One clumsy step falling forth, three going backwards
Fast the facts that’ll chase you back where the money runs from secular to pastor while [be][?] the axe that you’re running from
Criticisms that never seem to face the state
Created in the face of deteriorating race relations
...Foolish vagrants seeking a safer space
Tryin’ to keep my tunes from the playlist aboard the space station
Dismantled
Point-nine canceled
Still waving the flag of the future despite trampled
Music is worse, people respect the lame sound
Backpedal, reverse, stuck retreading the same ground
Stiff back in the hearse, caught up seeking the fame crown
...Plane down
...It’s clown world, avoid the rabbit hole or get found
Hurled from even higher heights than where clouds whirl
People with less love and more hate
Living out the endgame, thinking we’d be at point-eight
Planetary? We ain’t even national
State budgets’ leveraging cities to be irrational
Fact-based solutions never make it to tactical
Just more Demo-crips and Re-blood-licans in the capital
And I ain’t even scrape the reality yet
One second it’s armageddon—next—it’s time to relax
They took the third world war zone for me to respect
I took a second world cab ride for each to reflect
Absurd, trying to curtail greed
We splurge complaining that we’re oppressed smoking first world weed
Stressed
Empathy dead, no givin’ sympathy
While anyone that thinks any different is with the enemy
Destroyer of heavens, we don’t deserve an undo
Laid amongst the wreckage, I’m snatching at point-seven from you
...They took me out of my age
To find a quaint hairless ape still divided by race
And with this long list of grievances inside of our age
Success and failure decided by fate
I think I’ll fly to my cage
How can I solve for next lesson if I fallin’ down the Kardeshev all with the stressed freshman
Terror—the peak of knowledge
A breach of solace
The climb was never meant to be parabolic
Err or promise
Scared to contribute but there to comment
Deceivers thinking they’re fair and honest
...Wasting our time as the hour burns
The dismal downward turn
Complete with the shifting of power turns
From king of the jungle, down to the alley-worms
.6 is what’s left, thinking it’s how we learn