I think much like another song “Anti-Matter” (that's also on the same album as this song), this one is also is inspired by a horrifying van crash the band experienced on Nov 3, 2022. This, much like the other track, sounds like it's an extension what they shared while huddled in the wreckage, as they helped frontman Garrett Russell stem the bleeding from his head wound while he was under the temporary effects of a concussion. The track speaks of where the mind goes at the most desperate & desolate of times, when it just about slips away to all but disconnect itself, and the aftermath.
Every one of my lyrics when you hear it
it'll burn your face as sulfuric acid
If you're holdin' the microphone I suggest you pass it.
Hand it over quickly
Sickly's the only way I know how to drop it
Every time I kick it people look at me like my name's
Ripley's Believe it or Not
Got a wonderful time slot here at the Zero Hour
Been laughed at for rappin' ever since I was a little coward
By all the kids who towered over me
Overpowered me and beat the shit out of my face
Like it's the job clock in an hourly
And how are we the ones who powered these machines
And we can't get nothin' done, we controlled by kings and queens
The unseen son, the one in the attic
Hope the dream don't come true
America, she loves you
Without us who would back up the groceries
Or price up the clothes that you normally don't see
On average joes, oh that's me
Little dirtbag rapper and glad to be
I like my hip-hop
dropped in tip-top
condition I keep on
spittin' but no one
listens I must drop fire,
I can not wait for a fall
This is our only hope, this is our war
This is our war
*Every picture you see is a reflection of marketing
The targeting of certain audiences as only a major corporation could
It's simple: They feed you shit. Just stop eating it, genius.
Run up in the Universal Office and find Doug Morris
Pound him in his office, his life ain't real pretty
Like bitches that sing choruses
These forces are forcin' us to try to relate
In spite of what they lead you to believe in the first place
Can't move in the city 'cause it's packed so tight
Everybody up in my business, dissin' the lyrics I write
Dismissin' my raps off their shoulder like the never happened
Actin' so thuggish like they tough like Tinactin
It's rubbish, it's all bubble gum to me
Nobody bumpin' me stoppin' by your record company
I'ma flatten MC's with platinum CDs
You see these two fists? They each got MT
Tons of Budweiser, got balls of steel wire
Like a sidewalk and supposedly ya'll are keepin' it real
But mostly ya just provoke and poke at me
And hopefully you remember your jokes to me
I like my hip-hop
dropped in tip-top
condition I keep on
spittin' but no one
listens I must drop fire,
I can not wait for a fall
This is our only hope, this is our war
This is our war
*rap in you was approved by tests you'd see it's got nothin' to do with you.
The real gangstas are old white men putting these records out.
Hip-hop? That's the last thing they give a fuck about.*
By any means necessary I'm buryin' advesary
Every vocal performance it's important to stary vary
If you wanna feed all then you got motorcall
And I'm on the line, we can meet at the grassy knoll at ten
Maybe rap was never hip-hop to them
Seems like it's just a cash crop to them
So don't claim you spit it proper then
This war must never end
I can no longer pretend to be down
If I die in a battle that's fine
I got a potion named Revolution #9
I got a heart that beats for the art
This is hip-hop for the love
Not a 1 on the charts
I like my hip-hop
dropped in tip-top
condition I keep on
spittin' but no one
listens I must drop fire,
I can not wait for a fall
This is our only hope, this is our war
This is our war
This is a war, this is a war
This is a war, this is a war
This is a war, this is a war
it'll burn your face as sulfuric acid
If you're holdin' the microphone I suggest you pass it.
Hand it over quickly
Sickly's the only way I know how to drop it
Every time I kick it people look at me like my name's
Ripley's Believe it or Not
Got a wonderful time slot here at the Zero Hour
Been laughed at for rappin' ever since I was a little coward
By all the kids who towered over me
Overpowered me and beat the shit out of my face
Like it's the job clock in an hourly
And how are we the ones who powered these machines
And we can't get nothin' done, we controlled by kings and queens
The unseen son, the one in the attic
Hope the dream don't come true
America, she loves you
Without us who would back up the groceries
Or price up the clothes that you normally don't see
On average joes, oh that's me
Little dirtbag rapper and glad to be
I like my hip-hop
dropped in tip-top
condition I keep on
spittin' but no one
listens I must drop fire,
I can not wait for a fall
This is our only hope, this is our war
This is our war
*Every picture you see is a reflection of marketing
The targeting of certain audiences as only a major corporation could
It's simple: They feed you shit. Just stop eating it, genius.
Run up in the Universal Office and find Doug Morris
Pound him in his office, his life ain't real pretty
Like bitches that sing choruses
These forces are forcin' us to try to relate
In spite of what they lead you to believe in the first place
Can't move in the city 'cause it's packed so tight
Everybody up in my business, dissin' the lyrics I write
Dismissin' my raps off their shoulder like the never happened
Actin' so thuggish like they tough like Tinactin
It's rubbish, it's all bubble gum to me
Nobody bumpin' me stoppin' by your record company
I'ma flatten MC's with platinum CDs
You see these two fists? They each got MT
Tons of Budweiser, got balls of steel wire
Like a sidewalk and supposedly ya'll are keepin' it real
But mostly ya just provoke and poke at me
And hopefully you remember your jokes to me
I like my hip-hop
dropped in tip-top
condition I keep on
spittin' but no one
listens I must drop fire,
I can not wait for a fall
This is our only hope, this is our war
This is our war
*rap in you was approved by tests you'd see it's got nothin' to do with you.
The real gangstas are old white men putting these records out.
Hip-hop? That's the last thing they give a fuck about.*
By any means necessary I'm buryin' advesary
Every vocal performance it's important to stary vary
If you wanna feed all then you got motorcall
And I'm on the line, we can meet at the grassy knoll at ten
Maybe rap was never hip-hop to them
Seems like it's just a cash crop to them
So don't claim you spit it proper then
This war must never end
I can no longer pretend to be down
If I die in a battle that's fine
I got a potion named Revolution #9
I got a heart that beats for the art
This is hip-hop for the love
Not a 1 on the charts
I like my hip-hop
dropped in tip-top
condition I keep on
spittin' but no one
listens I must drop fire,
I can not wait for a fall
This is our only hope, this is our war
This is our war
This is a war, this is a war
This is a war, this is a war
This is a war, this is a war
Lyrics submitted by strange_brew
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I'm pretty sure it's "bag up the groceries"... but that's obvious.
For info on Universal (whose CEO is Doug Morris), check this out: en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Universal_Music_Group
They've accused all iPod owners of being music pirates, yet paid $12m to settle a lawsuit by the State of New York for bribing radio stations to play songs by their artists. (tangent: I wonder if the radio stations were sued, too. I work in the industry.)
Also, they own Interscope and Island-Def Jam, two labels known for hip hop. I wonder if Josh was ever being considered by them...
I guess this song is about how people who work at a labor of love always seem to get fucked by the system, and the unethical and deceitful seem to rise to the top... something to which I, and hopefully a lot of people, can relate. (We won't get anywhere without numbers.)