Soapbox lyrics

by

CYNE


[Verse 1: Akin]
f*ck a penny for my thoughts, here's a dollar
If you can hear me holla why they pop collar
Champagne and combosie, I press play on the RCA to bring a legend back for the artists
Stay tuned with the stars man, design bars man
I rock with a passion of fight cause life's hard
As long as my sky spinnin', and I reside in it
I define livin' with though slides trippin'
Killing innocence. f*ck a Glock, Benz, and medicine
Especially when held by keen MC's that grimace and
f*ck y’all thinking “the world’s mine”
Your dumb, deaf, or blind. Smarten up, see the signs
Buildings fall, for race war we brawl
Like a new civil war f*ck Bush and Gore
I got one shot to make it to the top
Like a runaway slave ya'll better call the cops
I must be tragic towards the pop culture fabric
Surreal to the listener this sh*t must be magic

[Verse 2: Cise Starr]
It's the art of war stores trying to sell me on the bullsh*t
I'm laced up buckle and belts, pens, and toolkits
Building up my city on rock and roll and soul
Coming back on the physical wax so f*ck gold
Not a soldier of fortune, but believer in the defense
Protector of the rights, I fight the current events
Soul so bright I cause a total eclipse
f*ck a new order I began my own sequence
Individual might with individual sight with hot lyrical mics high intensity nights. (try and walk with me)
[Verse 3: Cise Starr]
Back on the stage in a fiery blaze
Letting loose the inner sanctum while I conjure the grave
Resurrecting on cassette cause my heart in stone
Chip on my shoulder, I'm colder
'Cause I'm always alone

[Verse 4: Akin]
And, man, it’s hard to breath without f*cking up trees
I zone without the microphone, I’m scribing at ease
Enoch blessed the instro, I let the pen stroke
Paper now exposing the fake, look at minstrels
Reminisce on way back in the day
With black face on the screen and crackers, they mock slaves
f*ck a song and dance. What you get is a glance
A sharp bird’s eye view through black experience
When a sling meet a brake. A slug meets your fate
White broads on a n*gga di*k, groupie need the taste
Goddamn, my n*gga. It's like I’ve been here before
Like polaroid shot picture that I’m headed for store
The agonizing truth—just lock me up in that booth
‘Cause I'm keep on spittin' this sh*t. It's for the youth
Young n*ggas coming up, y'all acknowledge the rain
Umbrella on ya head, get ahead in this game
My n*ggas
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