Third World

This isn’t some typical poetry for your children.

This is some advice for some 6.5 billion.

This is for the masses that need some positive feelings.

For all the people who can’t stand Uncle Sam’s dealings.

These politicians only got my people reeling.

Back on our heels, and inflated to the ceiling.

Only numbers that don’t go up is our hourly pay.

And yet we’re expected to make it day by day.

No one is listening to what the people have to say.

This is supposed to be democracy, you say?

This is the struggle. American third world country.

Forgive me for not feeling that the life I live is lovely.

How can I, when my family is constantly struggling?

Ain’t no way we can make it, my babies are going hungry.

All because Daddy doesn’t make enough money.

Illusion of Freedom

When I snap back to reality, the calamity of life hits me.

Society looks down on me, so I sneer back; that’s strategy.

See, politicians, big wig riches are stealing my wealth from under me.

And they steal from you, and they always succeed. And it goes unnoticed, such a tragedy.

And it’s sad to see all the thieves go free. ‘Cause if you ask me, that’s piracy.

These hopes and dreams that the government feeds only mislead my family.

My wife and kids can’t afford to eat in this ass-backwards economy.

So I get proceeds from greens and ink, but Uncle Sam says that’s a felony.

Just shut your mouth and hope you’ll be free to see the day you got grand babies.

The weight of the world is all on me, but I’m like fuck it that’s just gravity.

I still believe we will all be free, but not until we see things differently.

Democracy itself needs a reprieve because the system is flawed dramatically.