2025

Truth be told, I've been stagnant,

scrambling in the grime just for a fragment of any bag sent,

but I'm spent. Nobody pays a living wage,

so how am I supposed to pay rent?

Then they wonder why dudes are grown, living at home

in their mother's basement.

It's not just a cry for help. It's a statement.

But unlike pavement, I stay bent.

No matter what state I'm in,

the debate is in will 3 Stacks make a comeback

with flute melodies or rhymes again.

He's always beat a rhythm to his own drum.

"What, are you stupid? Then just change the drum."

And pray every day for a new album,

'cause we can't accept it when he says, "I'm out. I'm done."

Yeah, my money's spent, my soul is bent,

Just another promise that was never meant.

The blacklight on to hide the slums,

The truth is a beat… and the darkness drums.

Yeah, my money's spent, my soul is bent,

Just another promise that was never meant.

The blacklight on to hide the slums,

The truth is a beat… and the darkness drums.

But flip the page,

what's with this cage?

I have my taxes paid

but I'm still a slave.

I can't run away,

'cause the homeless crave

little blue pills all day—

zombies left in the jet stream.

And with Epstein...

as you know, there's nothing to show.

No favorable outcome,

just how it's done.

Every night, they watch news by gaslight,

that's how they control the dumb—

from the rich down to the slums.

I hope you don't fear the darkness... 'cause here It comes