We're 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 and

Lucas a theory conspired

I don't 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 who's they bigger than the

Monotheistic belief

That the man is controlling

The axes of e vil

And still all the masses believe that

A masked thief makes all the madness

And grief we endure so we indulge

Ourselves in the idea that wealths

The cure and further more less

Ain't more no more

We assess success like herbivores

More green more esteem and clout

To liberate us from that twenty

Four hourly bout

Better known as the day to day

Struggle no escape from to make

One you got to hustle and that's

Where the mistake comes the tussle

Between fiendn' 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 you'd think

That we would learn can't 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 can't lend hands to the needy in help

It's 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

I'm trying to sell

So since we're building my

Problems I'm 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 they're making

The maximum and it's breaking their

Pockets 'cause uncle sam is just

Taxing them and their pockets frail

Yet the streets are unpaved still

The road is rough not for motors

But their motives exposed to black

Kettle and pot holes that

Just be closing up

So hold that thought imagine having

An accent that would ban you from

Askin' for a job you'd react and

Hold that torch and burn down

Opportunities door the politics of

Classism is infused with the poor

That's condusive for a movement

Or more that's a soon to be war

Not sure we're living in a paradise

More like a resort unaware of life

We alright we alright we alright

We alright we alright yeah