Hubris, Pt. 2

I don't know what other people say when a reach-around's underway Scratch a back and they'll pick your pocket clean with the deftness of a fine epee But like a lysoled eyeball sees what underlies all, consciousness is far away Long as you got cheap clothes, cheap food, cheap booze, they can run you over all day. It's why you scratch your head when the pieces don't fit, cnd you roll your eyes and tell yourself you're over it They tell you it's a green bank, a green tank, a bad prank look at where the lies rank Good penny, bad penny, Federal Reserve Benny, devils made my heart sank Blind dog, mind fog, drain the swamp and fill the bog, bending over for the shank Meanwhile you sleep while you think you're doing freestyle, drowning in the Koolcid that you drank. It's why you scratch your head when the pieces don't fit, cnd you know there ain't nobody gonna give a shit. Build a nation, sublimation, take your two weeks of vacation, how much of your soul to hock Information ruination population exploitation generations interlock The promise is upon us and s'what got us to a goddess with a sheep flock Nothing's gonna save us when contagious mind enslaves us it's wake up o'clock.