Artist: Chris Orrick f/ Fashawn Album: Portraits Song: Bottom Feeders Typed by: kirenamloh@msn.com, Chris Orrick [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 [Chorus: Chris Orrick] 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 [Chris Orrick] 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 [Chorus] [Fashawn] 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... [Chorus]