Long Sleeves In The Summer - Promoe

Bang the piano squeeze the beat out the drummer

This ain’t your average hiphop, it got no keys to the hummer

No prostitutes, Glocks that shoot it deals with the younger

Generation on medication to shut out the sleeping and hunger

She needs the pain — her weary arms need to get number

Scarred so bad she’s wearing long sleeves in the summer

People wouldn’t know what to say so she feels she should cover

The shame inflicted by livin in the greediest culture man

Who wouldn’t be disgusted by all the meat and the butter?

You could say she’s reluctant to eat cus her mother

It wouldn’t be the whole truth gotta dig deep in the under

People fail to realise what I speak on when I utter:

Generation after generation are being sacrificed, are being sacrificed

Slaughtered on the altar of a massive lie, of a massive lie

Play the piano for the innocent children

Growing up being bombarded with an image of women

So sick and twisted and it’s mirrored within them

Because we’re celebrating death as the ideal way of living

It’s so backwards round here — man I ain’t even kiddin'

She’s trapped in her body tryin to fly out from her prison

Too close to the sun quickly brought back to the harsh reality

Burned by the cold fire of this world’s mentality

Father could you tell me why she’s starvin herself please

Tell me why she’s so hard on herself she’s

Walkin this earth wearin the scars of our hell

Carved in the flesh of her arms and what next?

I don’t know what good talkin will do

And if puttm her pain in a song will help

But I can’t go on cus the words gettin blurred in front of my eyes

As the teal’s start to burn this ain’t a song it’s a cry

For generations after generations that are being sacrificed, are being

sacrificed

I tell you slaughtered on the altar of a massive lie, of a massive lie

Cus how you expect me to explain to my little sis

When she use her brain ain’t no interest they pick her apart

Till all that remains is a clitoris

Media keep telling her to change to some bigger tits

Tellin' her to shut her mouth — paint — and to fix her lips

But her smile’s a little strained while she slit her wrist

Because she hates what her belly is

That’s why we resist and can’t get a bit of rest

Cus generation after generation are being sacrificed, are being sacrificed

Slaughtered on the altar of a massive lie, of a massive lie

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