Strife
(🔥 Hook)
Why it always gotta be some stress in life?
Somebody somewhere tryna stir up strife.
From the days before Christ, man, that’s our curse,
Bombs, guns, and words—cut deep, make it worse.
Yeah, can we just get along, stand strong, unite?
Or we doomed to keep swingin’ till the end of the fight?
(Verse 1)
Stress in the air, you can taste the tension,
Every corner of the globe, another new invention,
To kill, to hurt, to silence, to scar,
Daggers in the dark or a missile from afar.
It’s crazy, man, history just repeats,
From the Roman empire to blood on these streets.
We fight over money, religion, or land,
But never see the blood’s on the same damn hand.
(Verse 2)
Metaphorically speakin’, yeah, words got weight,
They cut deeper than a blade when they fueled by hate.
Families broken, lovers torn apart,
All from syllables sharpened straight from the heart.
Politicians playin’ games with a devilish grin,
But the war we wagin’ starts within.
Egos collide, and peace gets lost,
We forget the humanity, but count the cost.
(🔥 Hook)
Why it always gotta be some stress in life?
Somebody somewhere tryna stir up strife.
From the days before Christ, man, that’s our curse,
Bombs, guns, and words—cut deep, make it worse.
Yeah, can we just get along, stand strong, unite?
Or we doomed to keep swingin’ till the end of the fight?
(Verse 3)
See, it’s alright if you love me, I’ll take that flame,
It’s ok if you don’t, but respect my name.
We all just tryin’ to breathe, tryin’ to live,
So why we hold grudges like we can’t forgive?
Human nature got us locked in a cycle of pain,
Chasin’ vengeance in the storm, we dance in the rain.
But imagine for a second if we dropped the beef,
Maybe then we’d find some inner peace.
(Bridge)
Yeah, life’s too short for the drama and the hate,
Tomorrow ain’t promised, it might be too late.
We kings, we queens, but we movin’ like pawns,
Burnin’ down bridges, but we gotta move on.
(🔥 Hook x2)
Why it always gotta be some stress in life?
Somebody somewhere tryna stir up strife.
From the days before Christ, man, that’s our curse,
Bombs, guns, and words—cut deep, make it worse.
Yeah, can we just get along, stand strong, unite?
Or we doomed to keep swingin’ till the end of the fight?
(Outro)
Strife—it’s the story we keep on tellin’,
But deep down, man, it’s the peace we sellin’.
World on fire, but we hold the flame,
It’s alright if you love me, it’s ok if you don’t—same game.
[Violin Solo]
[Female Vocal]
[Male Vocal]
[Final Chorus]
