FTc(See) (CumpletelyRestartedRemix)

[Intro] Yeah, yeah, uh. Mic check — oh wait, that’s illegal. Heh. [Verse 1] Welcome to the land of the regulated beat, Where a barcode tags what I say on the street. They fact-check tone, they tax your tone, You need a license now to hold your own. Scroll my feed — half my lines got blurred, Apparently truth’s a trademarked word. Said one rhyme raw, they flagged my speech, Got a cease-and-desist for freedom of reach. They claim it’s “trade,” I call it theft, They own the breath that’s in my chest. Speech police in a suit and tie, Sellin’ silence in the land of the “why.” [Hook] F.T. See — they won’t let me speak, They mute my truth ‘cause the truth ain’t sleek. Every word I leak gets a legal tweak, F.T. See, man, the system’s bleak. F.T. See — they won’t let me speak, I spit one fact, they call it deceit. You can’t be free if you can’t critique, F.T. See — they won’t let me speak. [Verse 2] They regulate rhythm, monetize pain, Put fines on lines in my brain. My verse got flagged by a legal clerk, Said it violated Section “Don’t You Smirk.” You want truth? Better fill out Form A, Triplicate thoughts in the proper way. Get a stamp for the beat, a fee for the rhyme, ‘Cause the marketplace owns your mind. See, “free trade” ain’t about the dollar, It’s about who gets to wear the collar. They say “transparency,” but it’s glass one-way, You talk back, and you fade to gray. [Hook] F.T. See — they won’t let me speak, They mute my truth ‘cause the truth ain’t sleek. Every word I leak gets a legal tweak, F.T. See, man, the system’s bleak. F.T. See — they won’t let me speak, I spit one fact, they call it deceit. You can’t be free if you can’t critique, F.T. See — they won’t let me speak. [Bridge] (Spoken, sarcastic tone) “This broadcast has been reviewed and approved by the Federal Thought Commission…” beep — “Content restricted for your safety.” [Verse 3] Yeah, they monitor slang, censor the vibe, Write you up for “unauthorized tribe.” You can rhyme about bling or dance or fame, But question a law and they end the game. I’mma keep spittin’ till the mic combusts, No stamp of trust, just grit and rust. The revolution ain’t televised, It’s demonetized, then reclassified. They can ban my flow, but not my flame, Can’t trademark rage, can’t patent pain. I’m a glitch in the script, a line off-beat, Still screamin’ — F.T. See — they won’t let me speak! [Final Hook] F.T. See — they won’t let me speak, They mute my truth ‘cause the truth ain’t sleek. Every word I leak gets a legal tweak, F.T. See, man, the system’s bleak. F.T. See — they won’t let me speak, I spit one fact, they call it deceit. But the truth don’t die, it repeats — it repeats — F.T. See — they won’t let me speak. (beat drops out) “—Transmission Terminated.”