Shackled & Chained Lyrics

Probably a little extra. Yes, my opinions are mine. Sometimes I feel special. Don't fold to real pressure

Maybe my tongue is too easy because I don't bite it. The attitude of two cubes, my life I ghostwrite it

I'm just a street preacher, hoping this speech reach ya. America is a whore whose breath leaks ether

Dying from the inside, racism, deep leisure. And just for fun, your history you can't keep neither

Call me property, undress me sloppily, auction me, play Monopoly

Often we feel democracy is just a broken system or a far-fetched odyssey

When all we ever wanted was to be respected properly. Unaccepted mockery its hectic with hypocrisy

This cotton hurts my hands with bare feet. I'm walking awkwardly, shackled and chained

I have a new name. Now close your eyes and let that sink, that's true pain

This the beginning of repetitiously winning. History done us viciously

Controversy well this is me, show no mercy, no misses he hits it every time he spits it ME

One of One and yes, my mother's son is on another run. Shackled and chained cuz the oppressor made my Brother's gun

Now even though we look alike, the hearts are cold, my brother's numb

Government issues, mothers with tissues. Education system flawed and media is misused

So the cycle continues. Shackled and chained. Shackled and chained

The cycle continues. Shackled and chained

Shackled and chained

Lawmakers making laws for the 50 years he holds the seat. He's out of touch, can barely stay awake

He votes, he goes to sleep. Legislative holes is deep, don't want to lose control to keep

A grip on having power, and it's the revolving door. Parole for weeks

We hustle to control the streets, and muscle still patrol the streets

Protect and serve a Glock right to your neck with words you know is deep

Black man had his hands up as he stands up. He didn't move and those bullets shot future plans up

And in my neighborhood we trap to get our grams up

On lap we got a strap and rat tat tat to keep the bands up

From property to a ghetto where the have nots settle

The murder rate fluctuates the moment you touch the weight

I'm writing colder raps cause we still fighting over scraps

You trapper of the year but your oppressor controls the traps

And youngins have no sense of direction, and this is facts

A drug dealer can look like a god when he's moving packs

So the cycle continues

Shackled and chained

Shackled and chained

The cycle continues

Shackled and chained

And this is facts. A drug dealer can look like a god when he's moving packs

Shackled and chained

Shackled and chained