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lirik lagu life of the proletariat – chris phoenix

[verse 1]

to live in the world is work

working since birth

existence plagued by whoever did best, whoever did worst

happiness comes in waves and spurts

story of ham

black skin seen as a curse

the oddity

black bodies commodities only used for labor

story since slavery when baby skin sold for gators

you love capitalism cause you programmed to paper

do foolish behavior, sellout your people for the taste of wealth to savor

later wake up and realize that life itself is corporatize
institutions used to industrialize you, get ostracized too

maybe even get stares

billionaires don’t care cause with hard work

hey, you too could be there

but really, just silly

the privilege of white males who daddies run cities

we behind the burners taking the thunder like kd

but maybe i am just lazy

cause lately my mental means more than being rich but crazy

what is wealth to a man whose worth is what one pays me

what’s jesus when i know, money the only thing that can save me

what’s adulthood when still subjugated as a baby

what’s freedom in america if you’re poor and black
what’s power if you constantly getting pimped slapped

that’s capitalism, what i call that

[verse 2]
the intricacies of the bourgeoisie

imposing its will on proletariats

majority of wealth inherited

talking points is parroted

controlling overseas and means of production

less regulations on wealth than reproduction

work extra hours for ends meat

or have to sleep on the street

but preach black lives matter and keeping the peace
hard when your existence predicated on being elite

i’m not, plead the fifth

but, american exceptionalism a myth, doesn’t exist

hitched to outdated notions

coasting on what was passed down

focused on adam smith’s opus

but a change gotta come that’s word to otis

turn our pain into comedy like comedians

give us rock to gun fights

the feel of palestinians

to shock an electric eel

and still save my people like gideon

ritalin in my body

just to work for that million

(just to work for that million)

[verse 3]

son of an immigrant she came here to work

come home, body aching

mind gone berserk

she just wanna rest, but gotta pay the bills first

that was instilled in me, pursuit of money cause without that

on the streets looking bummy

presentation everything, not to blame my mom, tho

she’d give me anything it’s just subcontext

never given anything unless you’re so flawless, lawless if you try to reinvent the wheel

not preaching, but sounds like going off on a spiel

the man who come back from the war with his limbs tore applying for benefits, but they say he can’t get more

denied a feeling, something a lot of us felt before

no reparations, compensation for being slaves that built this country

the us the real m*o*b, james, buntry

i love money, even though it doesn’t love me

try to get it at the expense of being a jerk

so, in order to get the check expect to get worked

so we can smile later, but gotta cry first

take pills to numb the pain away

feelings on layaway, everyday

wake from the dead like lazarus

the gap between wealth and poverty, measured by happiness

- chris phoenix

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