12.Sons and Daughters
We're the sons and daughters of the poor man, the middle class
man,
forced down to serve by the rich man's hand. This is the
perspective
of a poor dead man's son, another kid that had to run, another
life
struggling in the age of the gun. Running was only temporary, I
tripped
up and I fell. I've learned from what they wanted:Silent people
living
in hell, where we're taught there's a price for every man and a
price for
every piece of land. Thrown into a life of stagnance, your
mind's a Jail.
You're raised for profit and you were born to fail. Sometimes
stepping out
of line and walking away from all you know is the hardest thing
to leave
behind. A new life defined, now we can defy the greedy men with
the greenest
of minds. We never wanted to be seen as a commodity, I refuse to
be an
object of a vision that blinds me.
Aggression.
I gotta break the mold.
Aggression.
Never let them take control.
Aggression.
Hands in shackles, Mind's confined to a cage.
Aggression.
I won't stop until I've broken every chain.
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