[Verse 1: Propaganda]
I dreamed of doing shows with Atreyu and The Doors
It's b-boy screamo, not so soft emo
I am all cultures birthed by Incubus
Wrapped in Chuck Taylors in a mosh pit freestyling
I'm tired of lying, see no good in weed
Believe in one God and a lot of y'all are wrong
Believe in dope songs and wack emcees should quit
And I gotta tell you if you spit in my midst
Son 'em all day like sunrise to sunset
And free indeed like He who the Son sent
Ain't had a son yet and hopefully not soon
Life ain't got room but if I did, I'd make time
I prefer handmade jewelry, feel me
I never liked diamonds, hate rappers without timing
I buy you yeses in cyphers I'm rocking one
Spend more time with Mexicans, punk rock gear
I finished college and to be honest, it was easy
Daddy said cowards quit and he ain't gon' allow it
I still keep secrets, don't bluff, I'll back it up
But scared to speak correctly 'cause they don't think I'm black enough
Most the time acting up, I don't grow grudges
I battle 'cause I'm dope and prideful, not angry
Only crew can hang with me, I truly live
In hopes that God catches me handling his biz
[Hook]
Put it down on me (x3)

[Verse 2: Propaganda]
I was thrown into orbit by a divine ordinance
And of course, like all of us, I question it sometimes
Prone to fight the urge to be a clone and grow ordinary
Forged in conformity, just giving up my mind
Alone I be forcing it to remind itself
Just to refine the coordinates, the future is mine
I'm grown, been through most of it
The mere men would call it quits
And chalk it up as loss 'cause they only wanna shine
When lonely, I would focus on what's more important
Instead I'm under headphones trying to write rhymes
With no stones thrown, I be holding my insecurities
'Til they seem to explode at wrong times
It's cold in this coffin, y'all cold in an apartment
The walls keep shrinking like it buried me alive
Too old to be daydreaming, wishing it would happen
But too close to prophecy to let go of mine

[Hook]
Put it down on me (x3)