Trapped

from by BUNKS

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    100% of past and future earnings from this song are being donated to Haven of Hope in Coffee County.

    Haven of Hope's mission is to provide proactive, curative, and preventive measures against domestic violence and to provide caring support and services to victims of domestic violence. Workers also talk to outside organizations about domestic violence in order to raise awareness.

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  • Compact Disc (CD) + Digital Album

    We sold out of Generica CDs but if you want a hard copy we will burn a CD-R, sign it, and mail it to you. No artwork, just the CD-R and case.

    Includes unlimited streaming of Generica via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.
    ships out within 7 days

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  • Full Digital Discography

    Get all 15 J.Smo of BUNKS releases available on Bandcamp and save 15%.

    Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality downloads of Conflicted, Buckle Up (prod by Fell Peepz), Turn The Mic On (prod by Fell Peepz), Break It Down, (Can I) Hold You Near, Tryin' To Understand (The World), Endurance (Mr. P Chill Remix), BUNKSperience Volume 1, and 7 more. , and , .

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about

100% of past and future earnings from this song are being donated to Haven of Hope in Coffee County.

Haven of Hope's mission is to provide proactive, curative, and preventive measures against domestic violence and to provide caring support and services to victims of domestic violence. Workers also talk to outside organizations about domestic violence in order to raise awareness.

lyrics

Rock stars all over the world, drinking sixteen,
Relate through music, open house, people visiting,
Time for a change, can you grapple?
Hip-hop playing in the Sistine Chapel,
Heard souls were bought, knew it couldn’t be actual,
Classical was lost, art no longer magical,
Cats try to do this for the wrong reasons,
Opposite to mine, pour emotions on this mic,
Call it soul shine….
Do it for my love, do it for my self-control,
Creating from passion, I withhold,
It’s amazing how the universe unfolds,
Travel down a strange road to get where you’re going,
Opportunities, at last I’m pursuing,
Running in the wild, I’m a child with a mild mind state,
Feeling great till the day I reach the Golden Gates,
Figure out situations…
Write it down, illustrate, learning from mistakes,
Increase my pace in this race,
The chase is on…
The chase is on…
The chase is on…

We do this for the passion, we do this for the love,
Music runs with my tears and it flows with my blood,
We cling to the microphone to set our soul free,
Cause we’re trapped in a world that wasn’t meant for we.

Do you even realize what this actually means?
The commodification of mind, body, and soul,
The natives found the land but someone made them go,
You know the Trail of Tears, disease infested blankets,
Cortez destroyed the Aztecs, now their memories are ancient,
Capitalism buys your time, forced to live inside these lines,
Forced to build another zombie of a mind…
For years I have cried, tears backed by a dam,
Advertisements, propaganda, what defines a man?
Inside every office, in every plan, evil lurks,
White is said to be so pure but it’s tainted with dirt,
Sell your soul to the company, they’ll put you to work,
For minimum wage and no benefits, at least we got church,
But even they need your money, that’s how my pops got paid,
Welcome to America where hypocrisy’s made.

I’m destined for greater things than spitting about diamond rings,
Late in the night, my conscious, it screams,
Shattered dreams doused like mini light beams,
Cause no one wants to listen if you ain’t talking bling,
But I don’t give a damn if I don’t sell a thing,
I’ma keep making songs, if only for me,
Rescue me, if I ever go astray,
And stop putting thought into the words that I say,
I’m always looking for a better way to make it through my everyday,
It seems my thoughts have drifted toward the MilkyWay,
I hear ‘em say I long to be a kid again,
And never worry what changes with the wind,
I’m so sick of the shallowness we bathe ourselves in,
I’d give it all back for ignorance again,
Forget Paris H., forget Pac Man,
Forget Rosie, who’s this Trump man?
Forget Al-Qaeda, forget George Bush,
Forget all this bull, I wish that we could

credits

from Generica, released October 7, 2008

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J.Smo of BUNKS Sacramento, California

Bringing Unmatched Noise Knowledge and Sound.

We are a hip hop collective from Manchester, Tennessee that has been releasing music since 1999.

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