Track 13

Oyintari Utele

Let the people express their discontent
Fat pythons in the vent
stir it up and dissolve, the evils blend
Can't wait 4 years until we feel again
Truth lives on even if they bleed the land
Tiny token concessions for recompense
Sleeping chummy claiming to represent
The flame doused, for a second the silhouette
Insincere exploiting how the people felt,
Cash scarce, wailing naked in the bank
Mouths parched, bodies moving mad mechanical with nothing in the tank
She said she left her boy at home and he was sick again
3k after 5 hours, frustration might kill a man
Hands were tied, translation: heads buried in the sand
Retired general in flowing trad attire so pleased to ban
The convoys roll through while suffering beaucoup
Groan at a distance, we're not in their whole view
Standing locked out the gate, while the venzas rolled through
Ready to burn the bank, empty bellies itching to show you
Checkpoints and roadblocks like its wartimes
They put his face on a banknote for committing war crimes
Creatures forged out of curses and brutal conditions
passionate children cynical stewing in cruel submission
This nation bend you outta shape, force you to lose your rhythm
Every new mosquito lying ready to loot you different
More money than he'll ever need, failure of the human spirit
Puppets enthusiastic to stew division
Throwing banknotes in the dust for our brothers to fight for
Same as making mothers compete for resources they'd die for
The iPhones recording, numbers jumping up for the eyesore
If the ball rolls in the hole, the cooking oil might pour
rolling with the punches, wallet don't got a tight jaw

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