2 Sentimental Kassa Overall

They say to get up, get out, and get something
If you broke, they gon’ treat you like you nothin’
I check my credit card bill, it hit the max again
I’m at the union for musicians and they taxin’ him
Matter fact, they won’t even let me in the door
How to toast to the town livin’ like he poor
Nowadays, really hard to make a honest livin’
And I ain’t even got a plan, all I got is rhythm

While the rose petals still fall
I’m waitin’ for the call
For a lighter thing
It’s time to write a thing
I’m sittin’ in my room
Tryin’ to light the gloom
I gotta write a thing

Hate to sound as though I’m complainin’ about my life I’m on the TV
But there’s poison in the bright lights
I got a tambourine, but I’m not a tap dancer
I didn’t fit in Wakanda, I’m not a Black Panther
I’m backstage with my eyes on the free snacks
I brought some Ziplocs, cause I’ma need that
I can’t help but feel like I’m under a puppeteer
I go outside and I see a sign, the end is near