Find Me Songtext
Gaza Strip gettin' lynched, we supplyin' the chips
Helpless, we help less and we lie to exist
If I cry and I sit or am online decryin' the shit
Inside of this system, don't know if defiance exists, violence persists
Electoral bodies cancerously gerrymandered, we just vyin' for cysts
Used to reply with my wit and put pen to page in these times
But the sense I can make change with my age, it declines
I'm in a stage to describe would be paradox
I see the roles that I've played and I've cared a lot
Still self-servin' to serve yourself for the right team, though
Privileged people givin' answers over ice cream, woah
What's a prophet in a land where you have to designate you not-for-profit just to profit from the right things?
Where info fake as celebrities' lips
Same ones we think can save us if they said what we think
Lotta yes chefs don't question the recipe, shit
Why you think every four to eight, we change parties? The pendulum swings
Shit, I'm writin' this while hopin' that the Jets get a win
My morality confused at all times, my moods is offsides
You snooze your humanity enough, it's gon' be too late to all rise
Soul of the people is alive
But if we can't separate the tech, then a part died

I know there's got to be somethin' better
I know, I hope
I'm told the times, they change like the weather
But I've grown cold
I been burnt out, I been afraid
Tryna purge doubt, how you burn age?
Hand full of ashes from tryna turn pages
But I know I'ma find me a way

Rejection isn't a plan, deflection isn't a stance
Attention seem to be currency, time what else it span?
We can't seem to sustain it on anything that's attainable
We content to be fans
Or have fans, but what's the difference, really?
The evil in this world has set the litmus, really
They've held their focus and their grasp for centuries to achieve
We been paid off with dopamine and streamin' TV
So please don't pledge your allegiance to me
I mean, it's not in my best interest, but you need to be free
I pray the labor I can do enough to feed me
But the day I no longer make these words with my hands
I concede me, got permission to leave me
All you really ever owe me is GP
I gotta go before the Knicks blow this lead, B
I'm on the wax, in the ink if you need me, yeah

I know there's got to be somethin' better
I know, I hope
I'm told the times, they change like the weather
But I've grown cold
I been burnt out, I been afraid
Tryna purge doubt, how you burn age?
Hand full of ashes from tryna turn pages
But I know I'ma find me a way