[Verse 1: Locksmith]
We like to joke around Trump is black
'Cause He caught a case and got shot at
That's just as silly as Hillary pulling hot sauce out her coat
Or Biden defining who can be black based off a vote
If We don't address these things, they go unchecked
But these are the stereotypes We like to project
You hit the nail's head:
What if, instead of Sexxy Red, it was sexy to be well-read?
Well said, if we said it, wherе does the vision land?
How come all of our moguls mimic a businеss plan?
Is there a bigger scam to land on Billboard
Just to be a billboard for liquor brands?
Then drill it in your head 'til it traumatizes
Well fed, let it spread like a common virus
I get embarrassed looking at pictures of Paris
'Cause We talk a good talk but catwalk for our colonizers
Wave notes are slave tropes
Modern vlog reels trace back to Vaudeville
Scrawny slivers of comedy calm your quivers
Past the glee of Stagger Lee, Sambo to Suwanee River
So why do we criticize what we idolize?
Rather believe in IG than your lying eyes?
I advise, quit ionizing them biased guys
Testify against their own tribe, if you supply a prize
[Verse 2: Styles P]

Yeah, the pain will cause hysteria
The culture is fucked up; I'm blaming corporate America
Yeah, you focused on social media
Is it the artists, or the execs, being greedier?
I sort of figured it's kind of both
I'm worried about your growth, My n***a, not what you gross
Read it over twice, beloved, before you post
Saying you're gonna slide? Well, that's a slippery slope
Fuck the Democrats and the Republicans
If you ask Me, it's one government
If you really look at it close
They get you picking a side, get you picking a vote
It's never no equality; you're just hoping for hope
This ain't a match; I ain't playing dope on a rope
Nah, 'cause I know what tragic is:
Homies wearing purses, ladies saying they savages
You gotta think out the box
You worried about the ops, I'm worried about the Ahk's;
We both gotta worry about the cops
You came from the bottom; I hope you're seeing the top
If you got little, I hope you're seeing a lot
Crackers got a plan; I'm hoping you're seeing the plot
That is Locksmith, and I am one of The LOX
When it comes to My folks, give it everything I got, Ghost
[Verse 2: Locksmith]
So, what is your definition of culture?
Does social media mediate how sex is painted?
The glow's realer as soon as you hit the Lotto
Can't criticize them, 'cause us men helped to perpetuate it
With our women, We scoff when it's authentic, in awe when it's augmented
We're often involved in it; We often absolve ourselves, condemning it
Still, the symptoms of big pimping are children of tip drills
But still, We instill it, they steal it; it's up to us to distill it
For our green, We're all green; grittiness is a skill
It can pay dividends or spiral
Why incriminate yourself in a murder just to go viral?
Engage rivals, then ignore the bleeding?
It's like any amount of fame is worth more than freedom
On a podcast about a podcast about a podcast, reacting to reactors reacting to it
And y'all laugh if y'all clash, then they weaponized it
Repackage the press to buy it, then spread it like an infectious virus
Galvanize hate and create a villain
Not actually diagnosing the problems that We're concealing
We're still in denial quick to keep looping that sample pack
The straw man that broke the camel's back
Will never give an answer back
So, what is your definition of culture
When the outside decides?
Be wary of that exposure