It takes five days for society to break
Starvation, hunger, violence and rape
The United States of America's dead
Over epidemic yet again, the violin should play
When you orchestrate and prepare
An awful state of affairs, is it fair
To say that you paid to rob your own grave?
With nature defaced, the decay is in grey
You can't take the truth 'til it's straight in your face
And it's too late to change it or take it away
Fate is a strange thing
We predicted the happenings straight after late capitalism
But we didn't prepare for the winter despair
There was frost on the glass, we were lacking the vision
But for what little is left, we need a tactical mission
And for that, we can thank the Division
New York City
Could it be more gritty?
Money is the root of all evil
So when we fall farther, it seems more fitting
New York City
Could it be more gritty?
Money is the root of all evil
While our dear forefathers weep or pity
Rewind
Flashback for a minute as we shoot back five days
To Black Friday
New York, feel the boom bap vibrate
Street map is a true rat-like maze
Open jails, flip the gulag sideways
Too late to glue cracks, view that crime rate
Whole city's in a 2Pac mindstate
Duggin' in each other to get food and hydrate
Better get moving to that highway
Come on, if you really want to do that, why wait?
Pack your bags, grab your shoes and migrate
'Cause a dead president's a dude that's irate
For a land built on dirty money
It's absurdly funny that it's turning ugly
But you know humans, we just keep running
And we will it at our will and this is a free country
New York City
Could it be more gritty?
Money is the root of all evil
So when we fall farther, it seems more fitting
New York City
Could it be more gritty?
Money is the root of all evil
While our dear forefathers weep or pity
The president says to do whatever it takes
To tether the threads and weather the state
Defend it against any tremors and quakes
Hell or Heaven could make
But Vecta can spray like a wreck to caprae
So I rectify lies, correct your mistakes
You're treading a fine line with steps that you take
So you might find my bootprint etched in your face
Yes siree, we do what's necessary
Every discretionary decision is left up to me
Definitely step in the street with weapon ready
To step in and cease the spread of the epidemic
Dead on its feet, second-guessing whoever we meet
We're a second from a severed head and spines lying separately
So I'm speaking to my team with techy telepathy
If I protect them, they protect me
New York City
Could it be more gritty?
Money is the root of all evil
So when we fall farther, it seems more fitting
New York City
Could it be more gritty?
Money is the root of all evil
While our dear forefathers weep or pity
