Artists watching artist, watch each other for the flag
One shot into the air!
Before we race to stab each other’s backs
Will you climb the ranks?
We’re all staring towards a sun of gold
Without an inkling of what it is or what it’s worth
Just instinct to succeed
Can I shock you?
I doubt it, you’re jaded
Can I create the songs that I want?
Two generations fight for attention
Made of pure oil, nothing but standards
For us to live by
There shouldn’t be a waste of time
Busy yourself, learn a trade
And conquer this before your corpse is gone
Feeding shit into the ground
In hopes that the forest will grow
Producing copies of copies
Until the pepper is not tasted
The bite is totally gone
The bite is gone
Gossip, it all starts from the mouth
Of a crooked traveling act
Naive to the fact that music has no place for egos
From the mouth
Filth spills out
No angel lives, his presence is missed
Tripp, you still speak to me
No angel lives, their presence is missed
Tripp, you still speak to me!
Enraged those comments exist
Words from anonymous, soon you’re exposed
Enraged that those comments exist
I’ll hunt you down, when karma is void
