The Tar Brush 50.1 [EXPLICIT]

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[Verse 1]
The gavel cracks like a pistol in the town.
They’re looking for a head to wear a crown of thorns.
Trading in a debt that the innocent don’t owe.
Reaping poison seeds they didn’t even sow.

[Verse 2]
You judge a man’s blood by the shadow on his face.
Tearing down a house just to spite a single space.
One man hit the bottle and fell into the ditch.
Now you’re burning every bridge just to scratch a holy itch.
You’re coating the parents, the sisters, the sons...
People who would never dream of the things you’re screaming about.
Is that the world you want to live in?

[Verse 3]
There’s a mother at the table, stare is fixed and cold.
Neighbors at the gate acting righteous and bold.
She raised a honest man, kept him walking in the light.
But you’ve branded her a ghost in the middle of the night.

[Verse 4]
Dragging one devil to the fire makes sense.
For the blood he spilled and his cold indifference.
But when you cast the net across the whole damn tribe.
You’re just a Pharisee looking for a bribe.
Accountability... that’s a heavy word. It means the buck stops at the man who did the deed.
Condemnation? That’s easy. That’s lazy.
It’s a coward’s way of feeling safe—by making an entire group of people into a monster
so you don't have to look 'em in the eye.

[Verse 5]
That brush is six feet wide and the ink is thick as grease.
It’s a lynch-mob logic and a murder of the peace.
Find yourself a scapegoat, nail him to the pine.
While you wash your hands in a gallon of wine.

[Verse 6]
They’re brothers and they’re daughters, kin to the core.
Sweeping out the dust behind a quiet kitchen door.
They wouldn't hurt a fly, wouldn't cross a crooked line.
But you’ve hitched ‘em to the wagon of your own design.

[Verse 7]
Justice is a mirror, it shows the jagged truth.
It don’t care for slogans or the fire of your youth.
It looks at the hands and it weighs out the deed.
It doesn't choke the garden with a prejudiced weed.

[Verse 8]
So holster that brush 'fore the stains all set.
Living life in a fever that you're gonna regret.
If you want to be a man, then be fair and be true.
'Cause that same black ink is coming for you.
The guilty deserve the weight of the law. Period.
But don’t mistake your prejudice for a virtue.
An entire group of people didn't fail you... one person did.
Keep the tar in the bucket.
Walk away with your dignity.

2691/7500

[Opening Anthem: Spoken Word] Listen... No one’s standing up for the darkness. Depravity is a rot, and those who commit those acts deserve every bit of the lightning that finds 'em. But there’s a difference between pulling a weed and burning the whole damn field. Justice is a sharp blade... prejudice is just a blunt instrument. [Verse 1] The gavel cracks like a pistol in the town. They’re looking for a head to wear a crown of thorns. Trading in a debt that the innocent don’t owe. Reaping poison seeds they didn’t even sow. [Verse 2] You judge a man’s blood by the shadow on his face. Tearing down a house just to spite a single space. One man hit the bottle and fell into the ditch. Now you’re burning every bridge just to scratch a holy itch. You’re coating the parents, the sisters, the sons... People who would never dream of the things you’re screaming about. Is that the world you want to live in? [Verse 3] There’s a mother at the table, stare is fixed and cold. Neighbors at the gate acting righteous and bold. She raised a honest man, kept him walking in the light. But you’ve branded her a ghost in the middle of the night. [Verse 4] Dragging one devil to the fire makes sense. For the blood he spilled and his cold indifference. But when you cast the net across the whole damn tribe. You’re just a Pharisee looking for a bribe. Accountability... that’s a heavy word. It means the buck stops at the man who did the deed. Condemnation? That’s easy. That’s lazy. It’s a coward’s way of feeling safe—by making an entire group of people into a monster so you don't have to look 'em in the eye. [Verse 5] That brush is six feet wide and the ink is thick as grease. It’s a lynch-mob logic and a murder of the peace. Find yourself a scapegoat, nail him to the pine. While you wash your hands in a gallon of wine. [Verse 6] They’re brothers and they’re daughters, kin to the core. Sweeping out the dust behind a quiet kitchen door. They wouldn't hurt a fly, wouldn't cross a crooked line. But you’ve hitched ‘em to the wagon of your own design. [Verse 7] Justice is a mirror, it shows the jagged truth. It don’t care for slogans or the fire of your youth. It looks at the hands and it weighs out the deed. It doesn't choke the garden with a prejudiced weed. [Verse 8] So holster that brush 'fore the stains all set. Living life in a fever that you're gonna regret. If you want to be a man, then be fair and be true. 'Cause that same black ink is coming for you. The guilty deserve the weight of the law. Period. But don’t mistake your prejudice for a virtue. An entire group of people didn't fail you... one person did. Keep the tar in the bucket. Walk away with your dignity.

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