and I get smashed daily, I get mad, raging
if the impact is full force or if the impact grazed me
think they show respect touching the awning, as I pound a mic
I stand at attention and salute the flag...
as it goes up in the morning and then down at night
whens the last time you heard a bugle, or saw a flag rise
your life is so fruitful....but where is the damn pride
less bickering, more writtens, spittin and going hardcore
I project an image of fingers bleeding
writing bars and visions because I'm devoted to the art form