Cyne - Nothing's Sacred lyrics

[Verse 1: Cise Star] It's like lonely children wandering over buildings Money that makes sense, current events I'm building Currency to the billions, money became policy Fueling a man's greed, the heart of all atrocities Power easy to please with b**hes all on they knees Praying to golden calves and causing mental disease Evils, they came inside me, mind became a vulture Searching for the d**h in life and calling it pop culture Stomach ulcer, laceration to my intestines I'm restless, praying to God—maybe he bless this A lost prophet, crucifying my final message But losing meaning like a crucifix hanging from necklace I'm desperate, making criminal records over police beats Knowing the ledge, reaching the peak Knowing the ledge, reaching the peak [Verse 2: Akin Yai] Who can't conform? Who can't be told what is norm? Who gotta perform for therapy? Whose soul is torn? I'm feeling that pain but in the most literal sense I chose to rape the system making dollars and cents It's tense walking tightropes and never fall off My crew got too live—they got hauled off To the stream we're taken where nothing's sacred I traveled abroad and found God but can't escape this Moment of truth where consumers are spoofed on How I'm supposed to look and sound bringing the King down? I'm out here to innovate. Yo, not to mention When thoughts are cynical, my mind's in a better state My life's like a paradox Sort of like American dream of making it seems that's forever sought [Verse 3: Akin Yai and Cise Star] [Akin Yai] We state the obvious Cause they're blind though they're watching us With binoculars, rich white kids are copping this Critical words from the poet, not novelist On the frontline, we stand tall like an obelisk [Cise Star] I'm doctoring words so you can hear the truth in the verse Lunging at you like a robber that's attacking the clerk A thief of the night, showing all my people the light A neo-Moses moving all the ma**es with mics Instead of fish, I give the populous some beans and rice Speaking to Christ, hoping that the food will suffice Walking the path, I hold the microphone like a staff The first is the last—lock, load, ready to blast