[Intro] Exit ramp. County line. You know what it is. [Verse 1] Flag on the pole. Hand on the wheel. Same old promise with a fresh coat of seal. They draw that line, then they call it a choice. One side gets a mic. One side gets a voice cut short— when the sirens start talking. Mama checks the window before she starts walking. Kids learn the routes where the safe blocks end. Another candle, another “thoughts” from a friend. [Verse 2] They say work hard. We worked till the back gave out. Rent took the check, then the lights went out. A suit says “growth” while the table stays bare. A camera finds a gun; never finds who put us there. Vote comes round, big grin, clean tie. Four years later, same leak in the ceiling sky. Rich get a ladder. Poor get a lecture. Whole towns left waiting on a broken-texture promise. [Chorus] IS THIS THE DREAM? THEN WHY WE STILL RUNNING? IS THIS FREEDOM? THEN WHY WE STILL HUNTING? [Gang Vocals] WHY WE STILL HUNTING? [Verse 3] I’m not asking for a halo or a seat at the feast. Just a night where the young ones get to sleep. But the grief stacks high and the headlines move on. We bury our own, then the cameras are gone. They split us by color, by zip, by name. Keep us pointing sideways while the numbers stay the same. A whole lot of money. A whole lot of pain. A whole lot of people still standing in the rain. [Bridge] Still clock in. Still show up. Still make a plate from what they left us. Still hold the line when the whole thing shakes. Still raise those kids with the little we make. [Final Chorus] IS THIS THE DREAM? THEN WHY WE STILL RUNNING? IS THIS FREEDOM? THEN WHY WE STILL HUNTING? [Gang Vocals] WHY WE STILL HUNTING? [Outro] Who gets to call it freedom when the same doors stay shut?
