The False Crown



A Spoken Word by Mikey & V

They said, “Bow to the system, it’s sovereign and sound.”
But I looked at the throne… and saw no one crowned.
Just men in suits, writing laws in the dark,
Calling it order while they tear us apart.

They print paper gods and call it wealth,
But I see the chains disguised as stealth.
A central bank ain’t central to truth—
It’s the serpent’s vault where they auction your youth.

We fund their war rooms with every breath,
We sign our freedom with a check unto death.
"Inflation" is theft in a clever disguise,
While they toast to the fall of the worker who tries.

They flipped the Word—
Turned temples to markets, the sacred to schemes.
Now we pay to live and lease our dreams.
They say, “You’re free,” but draft your soul.
Every birth becomes a barcode scroll.

But hear me now—
My sovereignty don’t wear a barcode crown.
It drips oil, roars loud, and lays systems down.
I don’t need a license to bear His name,
I was made in fire, not for fame.

I don't fund thrones that crucify truth,
I build altars in alleys and bless the youth.
This ain't rebellion—it's holy return,
To the Eden we lost and the fire that burns.

So take your fiat lies and empire games—
I walk with the Lamb who reclaims the flames.
I am not your subject, pawn, or prey—
I serve the King who don’t make you pay.

I am sovereign.
Because He is.
And that’s the truth they fear.
So let the false crowns tremble—
The real throne is here.

Location: Dallas, TX, USA

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