Song Description

Miss Storm speaks to the continuous tense relationship of the African American community and law enforcement officers.

Lyrics

Quicksand Lyrics:
Verse 1: [Artist Miss Storm ]
I know you tired of hearing the same bad news
I'm sick and tired of singing the same sad Blues
when George Floyd was killed my heart stopped too
Ahmad Aubrey died I felt shot to Breyonna Taylor murdered in her room an angel Gone Too Soon
turn the channel it's the same old thing another Nigga killed right in our face
they normalize a Lynch like it's okay to feel this pain I'm black it done been this way ain't shit gone change stay in your place
Fuck the riots best get out my face all this violence because of our race
how much more suffering is we going to take before we break before we take our reparations built this country on the backs of slaves
let me tell you how I really feel a sense of guilt for leaving all my family to chase a mil when I know my mama struggling to make a meal they raised to kill we raised on survival skills.
Hook:
sinking in quick-sand confined to this slave Island
designed from a master's plan we'll never have thee upper hand
Sinking in quicksand derived from my motherland
another dead African and nobody gives a damn

Verse 2: [Feature Artist Madame X ]
Don't give up 5 minutes before the miracle
these curses got me lyrical highly hysterical I'm in my spaceship and is difficult
quicksand got me critical white man keep me physical fighting for my life my life is invincible is it invisible
They had a foolproof plan capture the Mind heart and soul of the poor black man
Liberation is a power tool in my right hand sacrifice my life to give birth to a few black men
who are you?
The one shooting or getting shot the patient or the doc the nigga the cop the shepherd or the flock a human or a god would you rather be a problem or a problem solve..
The only thing we ever wanted was control of our land of our fam of our soul hot damn we're down here in this hole no longer relying on you to let us go!

Hook:
sinking in quick-sand confined to this slave Island
designed from a master's plan we'll never have thee upper hand
Sinking in quicksand derived from my motherland
another dead African and nobody gives a damn