| It’s like lonely children wandering over buildings
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| Money that makes sense, current events I’m building
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| Currency to the billions, money became policy
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| Fueling a man’s greed, the heart of all atrocities
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| Power easy to please with bitches all on they knees
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| Praying to golden calves and causing mental disease
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| Evils, they came inside me, mind became a vulture
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| Searching for the death in life and calling it pop culture
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| Stomach ulcer, laceration to my intestines
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| I’m restless, praying to God—maybe he bless this
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| A lost prophet, crucifying my final message
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| But losing meaning like a crucifix hanging from necklace
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| I’m desperate, making criminal records over police beats
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| Knowing the ledge, reaching the peak
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| Knowing the ledge, reaching the peak
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| Who can’t conform? |
| Who can’t be told what is norm?
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| Who gotta perform for therapy? |
| Whose soul is torn?
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| I’m feeling that pain but in the most literal sense
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| I chose to rape the system making dollars and cents
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| It’s tense walking tightropes and never fall off
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| My crew got too live—they got hauled off
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| To the stream we’re taken where nothing’s sacred
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| I traveled abroad and found God but can’t escape this
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| Moment of truth where consumers are spoofed on
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| How I’m supposed to look and sound bringing the King down?
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| I’m out here to innovate. |
| Yo, not to mention
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| When thoughts are cynical, my mind’s in a better state
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| My life’s like a paradox
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| Sort of like American dream of making it seems that’s forever sought
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| We state the obvious
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| Cause they’re blind though they’re watching us
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| With binoculars, rich white kids are copping this
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| Critical words from the poet, not novelist
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| On the frontline, we stand tall like an obelisk
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| I’m doctoring words so you can hear the truth in the verse
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| Lunging at you like a robber that’s attacking the clerk
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| A thief of the night, showing all my people the light
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| A neo-Moses moving all the masses with mics
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| Instead of fish, I give the populous some beans and rice
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| Speaking to Christ, hoping that the food will suffice
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| Walking the path, I hold the microphone like a staff
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| The first is the last—lock, load, ready to blast |
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Nothing's Sacred, artist - CYNE. Album song Time Being, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп