Put Down the Burner

One way. Woah. Yeah. Yeah. Yeah.

Yo, I'm looking at the metal, it's cold and it's hollow.

Feeding the pride that is bitter to swallow. You're holding the curse in the palm

of your hand when the Father calls you to lead, understand. The streets didn't

build you, they designed to break you. One pull of a trigger, the shadows will

take you. A cycle of sorrow, a rhythm of lead, leaving the mothers to weep for the

dead. You think it's your power, you think it's your shield.

But blood is the harvest that's sown in the field. The enemy whispers that might makes