Cash Shadows, Blood Runes

Lyrics

MONEY RUNS THE WORLD [Intro] Yeah. Look around. This shit ain’t normal anymore. [Verse 1] Everybody fake, everybody wants a name, sell your soul online just to get a little fame. Kids pop pills just to feel okay, then post “I’m fine” at the end of the day. War on the news, swipe up, next clip, someone lost their home, but we don’t give a shit. Rich man talks while the poor man bleeds, whole damn system built on money and greed. They say “work hard,” still can’t pay rent, half your fucking life just paying off debt. Prices go up while the paycheck stays low, everybody knows but they act like they don’t. [Hook] Who runs the world? Money. Who makes the rules? Money. Who gets heard? Money. Who gets hurt? Everybody. All this hate in the world, who’s to blame? Different faces, same old game. Blood on the floor, cash in the bank, we’re going straight down while they smile and say thanks. [Verse 2] Girls hate their bodies by the age of thirteen, ’cause perfection got sold through a fucking screen. Boys learn young they should never show pain, then everybody wonders why they’re going insane. Everybody lonely but nobody logs off, everybody acts hard till the camera shuts off. Friends turn fake when the numbers get big, love turned business, everybody wants a cut of it. Planet on fire, still drilling for gold, future gets traded before we get old. They don’t want change, they want clicks and control, keep you distracted while they’re buying your soul. [Hook] Who runs the world? Money. Who makes the rules? Money. Who gets heard? Money. Who gets hurt? Everybody. All this hate in the world, who’s to blame? Different faces, same old game. Blood on the floor, cash in the bank, we’re going straight down while they smile and say thanks. [Bridge] New phone, new face, new trend, new lie, keep buying shit till the day that you die. Left side, right side, pick your team, fight each other while they’re counting the green. They sell fear. They sell sex. They sell war. What comes next? [Final Verse] Maybe we’re fucked, maybe that’s the design, keep us all divided while they stay doing fine. Different religion, color, country, name— but at the top, man, they all play the same game. So fuck your status, your numbers, your crown, none of that matters when the whole thing burns down. You can’t eat money when there’s nothing left, can’t buy back time, can’t purchase breath. [Outro] Who runs the world? Money. And that’s the problem.