lirik lagu they told me – harry mack
yeah
[verse 1: harry mack]
they told me
go ahead, say what you say, but it better take less than four minutes
cause we need radio play
four minutes or less, well tell me what that sh-t means
when black thought sits next to flex, and goes fifteen
i’m bout to write a half hour song, like miles on b-tches brew
and inexplicably get as rich as you
i guess i mean to say i’m just tryna offer a different view
spit some sh-t you actually have to sit down and listen to
what a novel idea, a whole genre appears
that only really sounds dope after six bottles of beer
when you’re at the club creeping, touching on women
if you only listen when you’re drunk, then i don’t trust your opinion
the m-sses are -sses, you’ve heard it before
well i feel the m-sses get p-sses they don’t deserve anymore
well you aren’t all savages, cr-ss, cl-ssless, murderers, wh0r-s
are they extracted from the m-sses if a person is pure?
they told me
we as a whole control the trends of the day
and that’s why intelligence tends to descend and decay
and all the vivid colors of life are rendered as grey
but we’re all just individuals at the end of the day
so there’s no m-sses without you, or me, or my mother
or kelly, or my big sister lucy, and i love her
or brady, or saddam mou hursch, that’s my brother
i won’t speak for them, but i feel we all learned a lot from each other
i stand naked, hold my soul as it bleeds
then they run off and form opinions while they scroll through a feed
and cross reference with articles that facebook told them to read
well i refuse to be another blind soldier they lead
i refuse to pull the wool down and surrender my whole brain
refuse to throw my hands high and stand by while my soul’s slain
refuse to let them steer, pull me out of my own lane
they asked me why, i told them n-z-r and john coltrane
shakespeare and kurt cobain, james yancey and monk
and many more whose examples taught me i can’t be a punk
not to mention my aunts and my uncles, my grandmas and such
said if it’s a march against ignorance, i should stand at the front
low tolerance for art, high standards for junk
new jam of the month from p-rnographic ad banners to pump
amateur stunt, alley-oop slam dunk, from bannon to trump
and we all stand with our iphone cameras up
[verse 2: harry mack]
they told me
“that’s a stupid cowboy”, made this statement and laughed
they were eleven, guess i was maybe eight-and-a-half
tried to stand strong like a solider while they told the recount
“you drew six fingers on that hand, don’t you know how to count?”
my heart was crushed like ocean waves turning rocks into sand
tryna fight the tremors, shaking with that chalk in my hand
my only drug was life, why did they destroy my high?
but i knew the rules already, they told me boys don’t cry
then all of a sudden i grew up, insecurity made me lose trust
and the true beauty i knew once grew curious about new drugs
cop a dollar, cup of noodles, so i could pocket a few bucks
heard nas talking about six-cab cruising, it gave me goosebumps
can’t stop plotting on winning just cause you lose once
violin recital, same tune each day for like two months
i learned you can’t be a loser if you stand and perform
and the cowboy isn’t stupid just cause his hand is deformed
seems like everyday some new form of cancer is born
well f-ck that, and f-ck whoever says the answer is war
and while we’re at it, f-ck the standards and norms, the man that reforms
sandstorm the industry ’til fake sh-t is banned from the store
and f-ck a pen, i’d rather pr-ck my hand with a th-rn
and bleed truth on these pages ’til i can’t stand it no more
my mom said, “you look so confident, so handsome and sure”
well i guess there’s more to the man than what the cameras record
soul crushed like marshmallows when you sandwich a s’more
and fancy brands of bandages worn when you’ve damaged your core
can’t understand it, so many people famished and poor
wondering, “d-mn, what was i handed these advantages for?”
i had a dream i stood by cliff’s edge, and ran with full force
dove in the ocean of fear then i swam to the sh0r-
lifted the mic like i was brandishing the hammer of thor
then all the fans leapt out the stands then they ran to the floor
next thing i knew, all the vanity, celebrity scandals and p-rn
disappeared from the city and left los angeles pure
i heard a knock, ran towards it, and answered the door
it was my uncle evan down from heaven to join my band for the tour
i woke up like, “wow, what a beautiful dream”
kept it at the front of my mind so i wouldn’t lose any steam
wrote a quick musical theme however useless it seems
like maybe i could change the world with this truth that i’ve seen
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