Hard Season

Yeah…

West Coast.

They talk loud, but the real game whisper.

Listen.

They print the money, print the wars, print the pain on repeat

While the signal in the background put the kids to sleep

Say it’s progress, say it’s love, say it’s all for the youth

But they changin’ who you are before you learn the truth

Print the money, print the wars, then they sell you belief

Hard season every cycle, keep the people on they knees

If you don’t control the past, you can’t see the trap

That’s the signal… play it back.

I grew up watchin’ blocks crumble, elders fade to grey

Same lies, new fonts, everything cinematic and now gay

They don’t aim at the mind with a gun or a badge

They aim at the kids with a screen and a laugh

Cartoons with agendas, games with a mission

Teachin’ who the enemy is before critical thinkin’

Old world painted dirty, history reduced

To a villain with no context and no truth

They say “erase the past,” call it healing the nation

But you can’t heal a wound if you delete the patient

Forgiveness need memory, memory need truth

So they cut out the roots, then they market the youth

I see plantations in data, chains made of light

Overseers got smiles and a brand-new mic

Same structure, new language, same hunger for power

Just updated the signal for the digital hour

They print the money, print the wars, print the pain on repeat

While the signal in the background put the kids to sleep

Say it’s progress, say it’s love, say it’s all for the youth

But they changin’ who you are before you learn the truth

Print the money, print the wars, then they sell you belief

Hard season every cycle, keep the people on they knees

If you don’t control the past, you can’t see the trap

That’s the signal… play it back.

Every empire run a famine before the feast

Keep you tired, keep you broke, keep you beggin’ for peace

Bad food, bad sleep, bad news on the screen

So you trade big questions for a dopamine dream

They don’t want rebels, don’t want thinkers awake

They want players in a game where the board always fake

Ender taught ‘em the method, distance kills the remorse

Push a button, win a war, never see the corpse

By the time you learn the truth, it’s already done

They call you hero support the troops

then they load the next one

Scoreboards for morality, likes for the soul

Outrage rented hourly, never ask who controls all the fatalities

The elders remember when the story was bent

When the lie was still naked, not covered in scent

So they phase ‘em out slow, make ‘em sound insane

Turn fathers into hashtags, mothers into pain

Not force—nah, irrelevance is cleaner

Ghosts at the table while the signal get louder through the speaker

They print the money, print the wars, print the pain on repeat

While the signal in the background put the kids to sleep

Say it’s progress, say it’s love, say it’s all for the youth

But they changin’ who you are before you learn the truth

Print the money, pri