Deadline

We yellin' "9-1-1", the paramedics ensue So in this game of fake news, nigga, we know what's the truth Can't be misled by false prophets out here singin' the blues No Billie Holidays, just modern day meteoric moves Stuck in the groove, you choose, cruise, eventually lose Your point in shambles from the gambles So what the f*ck can you do? Bumps and bruise's hard to handle when you built like you This simple shit got niggas shook Got them lost and aloof You could have been better You could have been humble You could have been smarter You could have been quicker, ya bastard Couple of screws loose, they fell out of your picnic basket Tell me what you do to hide the pain, I know that you mask it Nigga would you move the way you do if you knew the truth? I pray to my God Can we survive? What will we do when the tides rise? How can we prosper? How can you see through them blind eyes? CNN, Fox News, sellin' all lies History repeats, these feelings like the end times Niggas die, shot down on the front lines The prophecies bein' fulfilled as I speak now Before the clock strikes twelve, hope I get mine Pray I didn't miss the deadline Wake the f*ck up, and get on your shit Yeah, you could throw the fuckin' towel in and call this shit quits It's obvious, it's in your face, how the f*ck you not convinced? Only so much empathy in me, I'm out of it, I'm spent So go on down the dead-end like all the novices did Supplyin' a feelin' that's unknown, yeah, it's too real for the kids So right before the bomb blows, bitch, I give you a kiss Bein' aware is a burden, and bitch, I carry this shit Y'all niggas awkward with y'all shit, shoot like Shawn Marion did Just pay attention when you step, it could be treacherous, shit 'Cause it could be any moment, any time, my nigga, you dig? Your standards of livin' lowered Lo and behold, we know what it is, eh, eh I pray to my God Can we survive? What will we do when the tides rise? How can we prosper? How can you see through them blind eyes? CNN, Fox News, sellin' all lies History repeats, these feelings like the end times Niggas die, shot down on the front lines The prophecies bein' fulfilled as I speak now Before the clock strikes twelve, hope I get mine Pray I didn't miss the deadline