Soul (prod. Dojo Beats)

Conversations with God but i dont know his name The preacher man be fraud it's all a game A religion keeping kings as slaves If that be the case wait I ain't trynna be saved I'm trapped in a trap living life but in chains Wear a smile over the pain Hypocrites with no shame In the club on a Saturday in church on a sunday Then it's back on the block on a monday Went away for a decade ain't a damn thing changed Rich getting poor shits not even the same Politicians too dey lie and dem never go fit change People suffer suffer everyday but never see no change Yelling Africa unite but they can't hear me say it or they won't maybe I should sound cooler when I say fuck the rulers yall insane Just puppets in a game from 57 till date We just modern day slaves Drop your arms in a big pit The arms stink like your armpits The arms split like an armed kid cause harm quick Because I'm sick when I shake you It's like an earthquake It's all love cousin you my brothers like my mom's kid Fat guinea pigs in a lab it's an experiment Experience what you can and leave the world to figure it Configure it to every bit till it all diminishes The mission is find God don't be ignorant coming quick Flying too close to the sun Deep in the slums I'm just out here trynna have fun with my day ones We fight everyday we for stand The things we did to make it out here Your eye see you saf you go run It's the most indelible sick without an antidote Dropping classic hits drinking out my chalice Swimming in a pile of gold Just smoking in my palace Let the powers that be understand this There is only one God but many rulers on this planet I cleverly maneuver you should study all my tactics Do this in my sleep I don't even have to practice Money got an attitude because I been getting mad chips Martin with an army of martians in my mosh pit Damn right I done lost it a menace to the last bit My bars making all your wack rappers get nauseous Usually don't do this but I had to break a promise The rhetoric delegate about to get intimate with this shit Wickedest lyricist casting spells from my oesophagus The black Gambino no childish tendencies I spit logic till I'm running out of memory Prod. Dojo Beats