[Verse Oddisee] Were living in the age of the microchip To think real life is like those flicks We used to watch where the doc was working for the villain to insert shit into your fingertips The danger is, those flicks desensitized us to the ideas it could exist Well done Spielberg Lucas a theory conspired I dont know, in the pudding the proof is But who reads the labels of what they eat? So the readers digest just what they speak But whos they, bigger than the monotheistic belief That the man is controlling the axes of evil still all the masses believe, that a masked thief, makes all the madness grief We endure, so we indulge ourselves in the idea that wealths the cure, furthermore, less aint more no more We assess success like herbivores, More green, more esteem clout to liberate us from that twentyfour hourly bout Better known as the day to day struggle, no escape from to make one got hustle, thats where the mistake comes, the tussle Between fiendin out for the dream or the puzzle That perplexed minds since the beginning of time, Why are we here, do we really have free will? Are we gods, god like or beast still? Did the pharaohs even have it right? In two thousand years, youd think that we would learn. Cant take what you earn to the afterlife Place it in a urn, the body burns liberated from the ideology that to have we like, more than life itself. Man builds rockets to go to the moon but cant lend hands to the needy in help Its them type moves that forever ensure that war glooms Like a tomb where the battle was held to tell the tale how men turned heaven to hell. Oh well, oh well, you know me well A common story I came from the bottom to the well Not quite the top so exaggeration Im trying to sell So since were building my problems Im from the basement No, not my sound, my surroundings, astounding if you found how we dwell Streets are filled with complacent minimum wages But faking as if theyre making the maximum its breaking their pockets cause uncle sam is just taxing them, their pockets frail. Yet the streets are unpaved, still the road is rough. Not for motors but their motives, exposed to black kettle potholes, that just be closing up So hold that thought, Imagine having an accent that would ban you from askin for a job. Youd react hold that torch, burn down opportunities door, the politics of classism is infused with the poor Thats condusive for a movement or more, thats a soon to be war Not sure were living in a paradise, more like a resort unaware of life We alright, we alright, we alright
well, alright, condusive, monotheistic, flick