Poverty the root of all evil trying to escape these sequels when we were fetal
Does the American eagle see the struggle of the people still living in medieval,
Desire extinguished and relinquished trying to distinguish what we trying to finish
to live lavish and beginning to establish the emperors romantics and classics,
Another roaring twenties and empty these past pennies
Just another hungry belly maybe just a little crazy
To dream a scene of riches esteem so clear in these beams
Tired of these magazines giving me guillotines instead of gasoline,
Cant sleep until the voices are heard through my screams
Tired of being a sheep breed speech and moving like a centipede,
Money, money, money, truthfully you deserve nothing
Until opportunity goes rushing to turn these doors into beginnings,
Poor problems looking for new, fresher struggles and challenge
Work over talent, still in the same passage, still a little impatient,
Don't let prequels become another damn sequel trying to rise above the American eagle
Life was never equal distinguishing legal to illegal, just the wrong timeline of people,
Excuses I guess, the same flesh of stress, maybe feeling a little oppressed
And little upset living in a continuous suspense expense, perhaps living less, i guess,
Poverty the root of flowers trying to grow from concrete to breach
the streets and walk confidently with two feet and not be called obsolete
But rather complete,
Caste system symptoms, only you can change these life rhythms,
Just planning in algorithm wisdom, a pilgrim building a kingdom,
Not to rich to go public just resolving these internal conflicts and make some
profit and give hope to these DNA helix and live by the the side of the republic and perhaps l
ive in the moment Instead...of the future.