Precious Jam Gemstone Mic : Hot Potato

Precious Jam Gemstone Mic : Sound Music BitezBlack Pearl ‘s lyrics Spectrum Wave Publishing Spectrum Sound Bitez unapologetic unbroken banner Copyright@ 2025Mic soundsLike a fly Waving to Bite your earBecause Some y’all need hear Hot PotatoTimes 2 Base line AlkalinePh detects ​7.9 ( read between the punch line ) Major hot pursuit Grass grows through Concrete the whole world had seenthe footage the garden Surface released right out Up NorthFrom Cepot’s closetWhere shadows are the only thing that reap.No sun, no sky, a ledger without ink—Toilet water inmates were forced to drinkThe truth is what the jailers never could think.For sixty grains of sand, the hourglass stuck,No hand could move to document our luck,Or monumental loss. A silent screenWhere what has been and what should be, between,A gap yawns wide. A nation holds its breath,And records sleep a semblance of a death.This is the game. The passing of the blame,A heated thing that carries Nixon’s name became , by a pretended mad king ‘s . He called the Hot potato game. It’s in the pocket of a tailored suit,A stain that spreads from buckle to the boot.I told you once, I ain’t you twice,They spin the tale and roll the loaded dice.They never gonna stop, while doors are lockedIn fact, as if a warehouse were stocked.While the whole world shock, the plumbers tape the mic,And stage the set to make the darkness bright.And in the silver reservoir, a coil hums,A digital vein where all the future comes.The water knows your name, its path a threadIn AI’s ledger, quietly widespread.The meter’s mind, a cold and calculating god,Prepare to double up the tab we have to pay . And sustenance. The main tenants, unaware,Will find the well is thin and metallic, bare,All the way down to that unspooling coil—A privilege now, withdrawn from Hot potato.The Great Depression is set to drop.Everything was right within our hands untilThe fool, who swore upon the bible’s sand,Came in and let the rot command the land?Fool me once, the shame is on the house.Fool me twice, we field the frantic mouseThat scuttles where the lions feared to tread.We’ve landed in our own sleek coffins, fedOn promises. The tempers flare and whisper,As from a gilded, unforgiving cistern.And in the yard, the animals begin to march.( Watergate) similar as connect four , but the media didn’t askTo lead on the dance floor. Hot potato was Passed quickly before it burned.Watch it fly as every vested interest turns.I told you once, I ain’t you twice.They are never gonna stop the spread of vice.While the whole world is shocked, they play the ancient game.The Great Depression, peering through the flame,Is about to drop. The music slows. We seeThe final pass was made to you. To me.We hold it now. This scorching, ticking core.This truth we cannot document… or ignore.Hot potato.Hot potato.Hot potato You are it !