[Intro]
Chapter twenty-three
Thou shalt not bow down to their gods, nor serve them, nor do after their works
But thou shalt utterly overthrow them, and quite break down their images
And ye shall serve the Lord your God, and he shall bless thy bread, and thy water
And in all things that I have said unto you, be circumspect
And make no mention of the name of other gods, neither let it be heard out of thy mouth
Then, I will be an enemy unto thine enemies, and an adversary unto thine adversaries
For mine Angel shall go before thee, and the Canaanites, and the Hivites, and the Jebusites
And I will cut them off

[Verse 1]
Same city Whitey hail from
Same town that the strangler stole the air from
I was raised Irish catholic
Never talk about your feelings
Tell them you're fantastic
Around here you're either savage or you're plastic
Drive a Benz or a broken Ford Maverick
They all been living a lie
Because they worship the wealth
More than they do their false god
I don't talk too much
I been living in the basement
Tryna make a statement
I been writing all night
Young Edgar Allen with the blinds closed tight
So when I say I fucking hate myself
And when I say I lost my sanity
Just know that's not my full capacity
Could never hate myself as much as I hate humanity
[Hook]
Not a material man
I got a mic, two guitars and a dream in my hands
I see you flexing them bands like you got something to prove
Well I got nothing to lose
Not a material man
I got a mic, two guitars and a dream in my hands
I see you flexing them bands like you got something to prove
Well I got nothing to lose

[Verse 2]
What a cluster fuck I'm fucking up
They telling me to lighten up
Hit them in the brain with the same damn thing
Playing in the rain, man I'm fucked up mane
Grew up too fast, tryna make it last
But it ain't coming back
Still an outcast, still an asshole
Tryna get past no payroll
See I wouldn't give a fuck if I had a surplus
Intuition in my gut so I keep my mouth shut
I don't say shit unless it's about the fucking music
Homosapien equipped with the wit so I use it
Feel your flesh breaking open
And your knuckles start turning white
You been holding on for too long
Sleep all day, wide awake at night
[Hook]
Not a material man
I got a mic, two guitars and a dream in my hands
I see you flexing them bands like you got something to prove
Well I got nothing to lose
Not a material man
I got a mic, two guitars and a dream in my hands
I see you flexing them bands like you got something to prove
Well I got nothing to lose