“It’s like a sick vicious cycle and we dig our own holes

We build up all their empires in prodigal clothes”

It’s like a sick vicious cycle and we dig our own holes

We build up all their empires in prodigal clothes

We go around again for years until we’re too far gone

Until somebody looks up and says there’s more than the floor

So while they’re jumping for more, We ignore it exists

And the hole is a problem, We don’t think that it’s there

If we worked together maybe we could find an escape

But if you’re comfortable then you become a prodigal slave

Dig graves for the ones that give their life for a block

We think our life could be gone every time that they stop

A non-existent broken tail light could be the death of you

But if you’re standing on the outskirts than what are you to do

You got a window to this world but don’t have to come in

You got a life of silver spoons but you still save your own skin

It should be up to us, it is and that’s just what we did

But in 1921 our life was burned to smithereens

Back in Tulsa, Oklahoma we can try to pretend

Color blind, Color makes a painting beautiful in the end

Freedom is a liberty that most of us aren’t used to

Financially we’re burdened by what we used to do

You want to be rich? Get that book here’s a treasure chest full

Pass down generations of wealth and not wrestle

With things that don’t matter, build your credit make it fatter

See that ceiling? Time to shatter. Make believe your life still matters

Spread the knowledge to these children, look up and see the light

I know we’re sitting in this darkness in this hole it’s never bright

The plight of our predicament it gets us starving for tools

They’re just the weights to make us stronger, to get out of this hole

Light, Dark, rich, poor, house or field

Ignorance the only that gets us all killed



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