Star-spangled
Star-spangled or blood-stained
Beautiful America
Uh, Bryan, this one’s for you
Yo, the picture ain't done yet
Keeping my brush wet
Painting the sunset
As if there’s only one left
Creation like: What’s next?
Even the sun sweats
Thief in the night is coming, unusual suspect
He’s taking his subjects
Home for the love fest
Gone, sayonara
Shall be hell for the loveless
Some of us undressed
Motives are suspect
The justified type
I call them flush left
Wrong side, heart cries for the wicked
Big schemers, such divided thoughts, a giant loss
Matter fact, they take they only hope
Christ the King, they laugh at that, say it’s a Holy hoax
Imagine that, I’d rather have the One who holds the globe
Son, dancing with my Father, it’s a do-si-do
So happens that the big cheese is filled with gaping holes
Them cats be steady racing for
Whatever the case be, y’all catch me steady chasing God
He says, I am God, switch up your dogma
You ‘gon bow to Me anyway in the long run
You can’t change My mind, you got the wrong One
You can’t change My mind, you got the wrong One
Captain America, I made America
Captain America, listen America
I’m Captain America, God of America
Captain America, listen America
America stand up, put both of your hands up
And trade our flag for the blood stained banner
But they all laugh, then they taunt us like
This is a scandal, noxious, pick up they cameras
They like: If that ain't art, give us the standard
So, I’m Jackson Pollock, ripping the canvas
Land of the free, home of the brave
But man, wasn’t free, they souls are enslaved
Classic, something Johann would play
E Plurbus Unum, but they don’t call His name
And, my apologies, I don’t know all the policies
I spend most my time following prophecy
Cause there’s only One suitable captain to lead us
Please stop choosing Barabbas
White, black, blue and red is the newest trend
We might have to fight back with fewer men
They neutralized the color scheme with darkness
Need you to zoom in to what I see as an artist
Just come close to the picture frame
I be painting like Chuck Close, in pixels, man
We’re going to heaven I know, but honestly
Romans 11 says that we the olive tree
Wild, gentiles, we was engrafted
So bow, it’s time to salute your Captain
Captain America
Star-spangled or blood-stained