Lyrics This Year - CYNE

This Year

Behead the dragon this year—I'm showing no fear
I juxtapose change like I rose with a new year (meaning)
My resolution is like, «No more pledging to demons I’m aligned with mics
That braving the storm for combat.»
Y’all better be warned
Taking eagles out the sky—shit that better be bombs
And better be armed with propaganda, striking and launch
More despair spark the sky lines than night that is dark
The death you wait.
No breath to take.
No breath to take
Eagle blown, clone troops to flake this year
I got a better plan.
Nope, no Beretta, man
It’s 360-plus five ways to change the weather, and
Flip the forecast, let sunshine and broadcast
Beauty through your idiot box—let's rock
Dave made the hot shit now.
We rock
Dave made the hot shit now.
We rock ‘cause
Yeah.
We get it on this year
Evolution take form to go beyond this year (this year, this year)
A lot of goals this year
No holes and dough to break bread this year (this year)
Who want it all this year?
Who want liberty, equality for all this year?
(this year)
Yeah.
We get it all this year
For real, CYNE, we get it all this year
It’s for the broke man stride, juggling pain with pride
Yo, my words worth a mill, but damn, so is a lie—it's shitty
While pelican fly right through your city
When I’m airborne, maritime skies got me shivering
Torn, pawns broke from open warzones
I’m caught in a rapture blast that better duck, holmes
It’s real—I seen the devil in his blue suit
World in his palm look dumber than the Goof Troop
Shit.
And y’all believe in his throne
Please, squeeze not the crime off that
I’m saying, you could label me angry, anti-patriot
A runaway who don’t believe the hype, just like a atheist
But all with a gift.
I speak words with help
Type is the mic in my hand—its sign shift
Battles afar, won and lost a high call
to hip hop—we dine and floss
Noose on your neck.
You thinking that shine had got respect
Blood on your back.
I’m eating this track
I’m thanking, Speck and
Enoch and Cise Starr for repping the music
And I now vow shall never abuse it
Blowing a fuse—a needle type, holding the groove
We be them two black dudes spitting rhythm and blues
Fuck an inauguration
We got soldiers dying in foreign nations
40 million dollars, but they got no body armor
Sending my best friends, family, and all my loved ones
Commander-in-chief, but you never used a gun
Your hand softer than mine, but ending they lives
Of all the those young men before they God-given time
Disgusting.
I’m just a little voice hoping that you hear me clear
I’m fighting my own way for things I hold dear
I love ya homie.
Damn, man, you make it through
They got you over there, but damn don’t let it change you
This year, I’m gonna see joys in pain
Happiness through the hurt, the sunshine after the rain
I give it my all and send it to God
Hoping this year we changing it all
This year, this year
I’m gonna live on my heart, holmes
And give it to God, cous, and keeping it strong so (this year)
This year, hold it down from the start
Futuristic shit, state of the art
This year, this year…