Lyrics: Mike Hector/Mike Baretz/Ryan James Carr/Vincent Staples
Music: Mike Hector/Mike Baretz/Ryan James Carr/Vincent Staples
Seven in the morning, death is in the air
Decibels from warheads, deafening my ears
Desecrated holy land, the devil's near
Devastated, questioning if Heaven's real
Seven in the morning, tryna get to noon
Staring out my window, watching the platoon go
Left, left, left, right, left
Left, left, left, right, left
Left, left, left, right, left
Left, left, left, right, left
Left, left, left, right, left
The man on the moon said it'd be over any day now
America will be here soon to make a way out
And put us on a plane to L.A.
We'll get to live in Hollywood and see a Laker parade
Can't wait to march down Figueroa, mimicking the movement of the soldiers
Staring out my window, seven in the morning, going
Left, left, left, right, left
Left, left, left, right, left
Left, left, left, right, left
Left, left, left, right, left
Left, left, left, right, left
War, what is it good for?
And what's the point of peace if we can break it?
All the wars we wage as nations over money, or location
Or religious ideation
Humans cheering in the crowd, proud of their gladiators
Why is death our entertainment? I don't understand
Primal greed, we always feel the need to have the upper hand
Murdering our brothers for the love of Uncle Sam
Marching like a soldier, waiting on commands going
Left, left, left, right, left
Left, left, left, right, left
Left, left, left, right, left
Left, left, left, right, left
Left, left, left, right, left