[Intro] (Upbeat, island-style reggae guitar riff) (Drum fill: Snare-heavy and crisp) Yeah... Open your eyes. The thumb is getting heavy, isn't it? RyFi. [Verse 1] Waking up in the shadow of the tall glass towers Counting out the minutes, counting out the hours They promised us a dream on a silver-plated tray But they’re taxing the sunshine and charging for the day The Master List is full, but the pockets are thin Trying to find a exit in a game you can't win From the South Plains dirt to the Capitol Hill We’re just a line item on a corporate bill. [Verse 2] The man at the podium, he’s got a lot to say About a "new direction" while we’re the ones who pay The cost of living's climbing like a digital vine While they’re drawing up a border on a fading line Empty promises and the "invisible hand" Leaving all the working men sinking in the sand They’re watching every penny through a silicon lens Dividing up the people just to pay off their friends. [Chorus] Hey Mr. Money, won't you get off of me? I'm sitting under your thumb and I want to be free You’re a weight on my chest, you’re a ghost in my head Trading all my living years just to stay out of the red Yeah, Mr. Money... let me be. [Rap Verse] [Beat shifts: Reggae rhythm stays, but bass gets heavier, grit added to vocals] Yo, check the algorithm, check the cost of the air They got us fighting for the scraps while they’re sitting in the chair Inflation is a fever and the market is the needle They tell us "trickle down" while they treat us like we’re feeble One percent is hoarding while the ninety-nine is folding Watching all the infrastructure that we’re the ones upholding A digital leash, yeah, a credit-score cage Welcome to the theater, welcome to the stage Where the lobbyist is king and the truth is for sale Another "economic boom" while the middle class is pale I’m a man, not a metric; I’m a soul, not a cent But I’m spending every heartbeat just to pay for the rent! [Bridge] [Rock influence takes over: Overdriven guitars, high energy] (Free! I want to be free!) Break the cycle, break the chain I’m more than just a number in your capital gain! [Chorus] Hey Mr. Money, won't you get off of me? I'm sitting under your thumb and I want to be free You’re a weight on my chest, you’re a ghost in my head Trading all my living years just to stay out of the red. [Outro] [Music returns to a slow, chilled-out reggae groove] Mr. Money... I’m done dancing for the dime. (Skank guitar fades) Yeah. Under the thumb no more. [End]
