[Intro] Ah, naw!!! By now, you know that history is a mystery and suggestive, or subjective. Don't ask too many questions, or they will keep you in class, remembering things that you ain’t remembered. Tough tales that ain’t been tendered. The Devil likes his meat raw! Ah, naw!!! Ah, naw!!! [Verse] Bury some names on paper, A picture of your family tree is easy. What will become of our story If we have sent it floating off on a cloud? Bury your story so history can cast no doubt. Put your lived experience in a black box that can not burn in fire. Plant your memories deep in the Earth for your ancestral children to find. Bury your grill so they will know just how you shine. [Chorus] Bury a recording of the song you never sold, the thoughts you never published, a script for the film you always dreamed of making…Bury some treasures with secrets and wisdom. Bury this book with a map of your block, your land plot, legal docs, stocks, keys, and garden seeds with recipes to teach your children how to cook. A picture of yourself so nobody can lie about how you look. Bury this. Bury this. Book. [Verse] Bury instructions for making something, Anything, really. Bury something To bless the person Who finds it Bury your best weave so future stylists know that standards have been set. Bury your best dress with your favorite shoes. A swatch of cloth feels so soft on your brown skin bury your, bury your favorite perfumes An ink pen and a notebook filled with your values. [Chorus] Bury a recording of the song you never sold, the thoughts you never published, a script for the film you always dreamed of making…Bury some treasures you love with secrets and wisdom. Bury this book with a map of your block, your land plot, legal docs, stocks, keys, and garden seeds with recipes to teach your children how to cook. A picture of yourself so nobody can lie about how you look. Bury this. Bury this. Book. [Bridge] Remembering things that you ain’t remembered, Horror stories that ain’t been tendered. The Devil likes his meat raw, marinated in fear ah, naw!!!... Fooling you is a process. The trap is set. Fearmonger is a seasoned pimp. Gray with Cane and Limp. You will never see him coming with that Mack drag in your ear. All the world is a stage, play your part. On the track in a race to places he ain’t never been, they are swearing they are running it. Running it. Running it. Truth is a Trap House. Running it. Running it... Down, down, down, Yes, you have been lied to. Trap, trap, Running it. Running it.. Truth is a Trap House... [Chorus] Bury a recording of the song you never sold, the thoughts you never published, a script for the film you always dreamed of making…Bury some treasures you love with secrets and wisdom. Bury this book with a map of your block, your land plot, legal docs, stocks, keys, and garden seeds with recipes to teach your children how to cook. A picture of yourself, so nobody can lie about how you look. What choo mean? Scratch a lie, catch a thief. Maybe we can get it right the next time. You cannot apologize For who you are inside Maybe we can get it right the next time. [Outro] Bury your electronics For the next reset. Remember to pack your chargers. Bury this, bury this, bury this… Book. Truth is a Trap House. Write your comments in the margins. Bury this, bury this, bury this… Book.
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