Bottom Feeders - Fashawn, Chris Orrick

The bottom feeder, God believers

Can’t foresee winning, but quitting isn’t an option either

We spit the mantra that Nas delivered the ROC on «Ether»

I will not lose (listen)

Sick grin while I sip gin from a goblet, see your

Holy Grail runneth over with what I’ve been bleeding

Poison melody, aim and poise steadily

Pedigree of the Kennedys, bad luck and destiny

See the peasantry seek hope in serenity

Find heaven in chemistry, unplanned pregnancy

Minds caught in zealotry, unlimited weaponry

Lower than leprosy, starstruck by celebrity

No longevity, no story or legacy

Erase the future with death the only penalty

No identity, trapped in the hegemony

Turn neighbors to enemies, repeat the elegy

And we got nothing

Waiting on our meal ticket like, fuck it

Till the day we die, our shoulders holding up that sky

And we don’t budge and we don’t flinch

And we don’t shrug, not a single inch

Till the day we die

Our shoulders holding up that sky

They acting like they got the world on their shoulders

Looking at us like we’re earners or soldiers

Fill up their banks or go fill up their tanks

Greed, money, and death they instill in their ranks

But soon enough their little burden is over

People are learning slow, their co-word isn’t covert

Not hard to decipher, not murdering Dozers

People are waking up to the birds and the Folgers

Highly classified and preserved in a folder

Only to be exposed when the world’s turning over (yeah)

Seems like the world’s doing homework

The rich have spent a hundred years digging their own dirt

And we’re almost to six feet, critical mass

Pitiful, let’s pickle the pigs feet

Feet to the fire so the fire can burn

The water’s dirty, we fight fire with fire returned (c'mon)

And we got nothing

Waiting on our meal ticket like, fuck it

Till the day we die, our shoulders holding up that sky

And we don’t budge and we don’t flinch

And we don’t shrug, not a single inch

Till the day we die

Our shoulders holding up that sky

Are you seriously surprised by the poverty?

By default, survivors we gotta be

Fuck classism, we defy the propriety

Use hierarchy to divide the society

Like instead of property we get pollyseeds

School of hard-knocks, while they get Ivy League

We get commissary, they get college fees

So logically I went on a robbing spree

Obviously, I was jacking for freedom

Acting a heathen, trapped in a mentality

That was backwards, the reason

Instead of leaving the neighborhood

We thought we owned, but was only leasing

I would grow to believe in

Not waiting on a mule or no acres

No patience for liberations, reparations, a better nation

Truthfully it’s a struggle, but I admit I’m

Accustomed to my condition, suffering from tradition

Still

And we got nothing

Waiting on our meal ticket like, fuck it

Till the day we die, our shoulders holding up that sky

And we don’t budge and we don’t flinch

And we don’t shrug, not a single inch

Till the day we die

Our shoulders holding up that sky