Length: 0:04:15
ISRC: QZWFH2638060

coming soon

Length: 0:02:28
ISRC: QZWFH2638061


coming soon

Length: 0:04:56
ISRC: QZWFH2638062


coming soon

Length: 0:07:06
ISRC: QZWFH2638063

Bill for the inhale, fee on the exhale,
Sell you the wound, then flip you the retail,
Crisis get staged, pain get a detail,
Grief on a chart, they ring it like resale.
Graphs do flips while the suits stay stable,
Turn loss to a line, put a price on a label,
Every “choice” rigged with a fee in the fine print,
Sign once, whole life stuck in confinement.
Two sides shout but the plug stay central,
Same few hands on the boards, instrumental,
Rage get leased, different shade, same rental,
Bet both storms, then they cash the eventual.

Quick maths quick cuts quick flip quick funds,
Split that pie in a blink, now the big slice gone,
Tick-tock tick-tock time taxed time spun,
Wrist locked to the shift while the rich stay numb.
Bit by bit they trim it, skim it, hide it in the digits,
Slip a clause in the contract, now you live inside the limits,
Minute to minute, they pivot, profit off a civic image,
Print it, spin it, then bill you for the cost of every minute.
Twist it, list it, push it through the channels,
Code it in a language only insiders can handle,
Weigh it, play it, stage it for the masses,
Give it just enough truth to disguise it in the balance,
Bend it, send it, trend it for a minute,
Let it run the cycle till the whole crowd in it,
End it, mend it, act like they fixed it,
roll it out again with a different finish.

Yeah—
It’s a circus and the clowns own the tent,
Truth get stretched, truth gettin bent,
World on fire, they just countin what it’s worth,
Oil on the water, watch it shimmer while it burns.

Gold-plated sermons from a tower made of glass,
Promise you a future while they auction off your past,
Tax cuts rainin upward like gravity reversed,
Middle class evaporate, the poor inherit the worst.
Red hats chantin like a choir in a trance,
Repeat what they fed, never question who advanced,
They’ll blame a neighbor for the cracks in the street,
While the suits buy the block, then double the lease.
Patriot theater, scripted outrage on cue,
Keep you mad at the many, never point at the few,
Every headline engineered just to fracture the view,
So you never see the hands that are siphoning you.

Spin cycle, recycle, same script, new phrasing,
Different front man but the backend’s the same thing,
Rate hike late night numbers inflating,
Paycheck shrink while the top keeps gaining.
Cut it, gut it, dress it up a little cleaner,
Sell it back as policy with a polished demeanor,
Frame it like a favor, make the takin feel leaner,
Then they pocket every ounce while they praise the overseer.
Draft it, craft it, pass it in the midnight,
Hide it in the stack where nobody got the sightline,
Sign it, stamp it, sell it, half-truth headline,
charge you double back and give you a deadline.

Yeah—
It’s a circus and the clowns own the tent,
Truth get stretched, truth gettin bent,
World on fire, they just countin what it’s worth,
Oil on the water, watch it shimmer while it burns.

Stock tickers jump when a bomb hits the ground,
Peace talks stall when the margins go down,
They don’t need chains when they own your time,
Clock in, clock out, that’s control by design.
Truth get buried under memes and applause,
Facts get filtered through a partisan cause,
They got you fightin ghosts while they draftin the laws,
Turn your rage into clicks, then they tally the cost.
Divide and distract, it’s a well-oiled machine,
Turn the pain into profit, keep the system pristine,
If you look a little closer, you can see what it means—
Every war, every law got a sponsor unseen.

Mask it, task it, give it new intention,
Turn a loss into a lesson, then they spin it as redemption,
Pass it off as progress with selective comprehension,
Then they monetize the mess they manufactured for attention.
Fine print blindside lifetime fee,
Sign once, now you owe for the right to be,
High rise low wage tightrope lean,
One slip, free fall, no safety seen.
Trim it, dim it, keep it out of focus,
Flood the feed with filler so you never really notice,
Spin it like a cycle, keep the public misdirected,
Then collect another check off the chaos they perfected.

Yeah—
It’s a circus and the clowns own the tent,
Truth get stretched, truth gettin bent,
World on fire, they just countin what it’s worth,
Oil on the water, watch it shimmer while it burns.

Mask it, task it, give it new intention,
Turn a loss into a lesson, then they spin it as redemption,
Pass it off as progress with selective comprehension,
Then they monetize the mess they manufactured for attention.
Pack it, stack it, ship it out in pieces,
Sell it as a system that was built to bring you pieces,
Keep it just confusing so you never find the thesis,
Then they tax you on the fragments while they feast on what increases.
Clip it, flip it, stitch it, hide it in the figures,
Bury truth in jargon, now the meaning come disfigured,
Line by line they design it just to trigger,
Then they charge you for the fix like they ain’t the one who did it.
Weigh it, play it, stage it for the masses,
Give it just enough truth to disguise it in the balance,
Say it with a smile while they tighten up the brackets,
Then they bill you for the breath every time you try to challenge.

Bend it, send it, trend it for a minute,
Let it run the cycle till the whole crowd in it,
End it, mend it, act like they fixed it,
roll it out again with a slightly different finish.

Length: 0:04:08
ISRC: QZWFH2638064


coming soon

Length: 0:03:28
ISRC: QZWFH2638065


coming soon

Length: 0:04:08
ISRC: QZWFH2638066


coming soon

Length: 0:05:30
ISRC: QZWFH2638067


coming soon

Length: 0:05:22
ISRC: QZWFH2638068


coming soon

Length: 0:03:43
ISRC: QZWFH2638069


coming soon