corrija a letra Letra Graven Image por O’hene Savant

Retornar

Letra

You're not our idols, you’re a graven image
Now that the prophet's come, just know you're finished
All of the lies you told will be diminished
We burn your towers down with the lyrics

You’re not our idols, you're a graven image
Now that the prophet's come, just know you're finished
All of the lies you told will be diminished
We burn your towers down with the lyrics

Preacher, don't tell me heaven is above us
When heaven is the definition of us
When health and godliness, we got it covered
The children of the sun, the ones you covet
Mislead the public, subject to a puppet, whose strings are tugged and governed by corruption
Raping our daughters, coffers of their dollars
Making our fathers martyrs of their knowledge
I'm the anointed, you're who they appointed, and gave a voice but might as well be voiceless
‘cause what destroys us is the fantasy of fairytales you weave that lead to tragedy
Gradually I wake ‘em up from the spell
You no longer run amok with your tales
So what in the hell made you think I'd buy the junk that you sell when

You’re not our idols, you’re a graven image
Now that the prophet's come, just know you’re finished
All of the lies you told will be diminished
We burn your towers down with the lyrics

You're not our idols, you're a graven image
Now that the prophet's come, just know you’re finished
All of the lies you told will be diminished
We burn your towers down with the lyrics

Now as you look up, you'll see many so called leaders and so called prophets rise up
You have to ask yourself, I mean, if they didn't come from you, where did they come from?
I mean where do these people come from that you're being told that you should like and idolize
I mean open up your eyes and realize they're graven images

You're not elected, you were just selected, by the machine to carry out their methods
Passive is lectures, fruits without the nectar
Wielding a cane with claims that it's a scepter
Most see an emperor, but you're just a jester
He who the king permitted to address us
He who the queen would ridicule in essence
Seemingly it's royalty but just a peasant
The type of prophet that'll die for profit
Rather curse God than deny your pockets
Gluttonous soul of pathology, stuck in this whole lust mentality
We refuse to bow to a graven image
You don't look like God, we were made in His image
We know the difference, follow the living
Can't do the statue ‘cause it isn't

You're not our idols, you're a graven image
Now that the prophet's come, just know you're finished
All of the lies you told will be diminished
We burn your towers down with the lyrics

vídeo de música

Seu nome será publicado. Deixe os campos em branco para permanecer anônimo.