Fuck the illusion. Fuck the myth. Old Glory ain't nothing but a faded rag blowing over streets where hope dies faster than a kid reaching for his wallet when the LAPD rolls up. L.A. is burning again, flames stoked by badges, courtrooms, and the cruel machinery of a justice system that’s blind, deaf, and dumb to anything but power and greenbacks.

This ain't about disrespect; it's about reality. I stood under that flag in a distant desert, took rounds, saw blood spill into sand for a promise—a lie it turned out—of justice, liberty, and honor. What we got instead? A country where you can get choked out for selling loose cigarettes or gunned down because your skin’s the wrong shade in the headlights.

The land of the free and home of the brave has become the playground for cowardly politicians and militarized cops, hiding behind kevlar and tanks to crush the very freedoms they claim to protect. Surveillance cameras on every corner, drones in the sky, data mining our lives like we're suspects from birth. Welcome to the surveillance state, the new American dystopia.

I fought because I believed there was something here worth bleeding for—freedom, dignity, something true. But look around: schools crumbling, streets broken, families divided, dreams deferred until they're unrecognizable. We didn't just lose sight; we burned the map. Now kids growing up know more about ducking bullets than they do about the Bill of Rights.

America's fallen. It's fallen to corruption, fallen to brutality, fallen to the very oppression we once pretended to fight against. The police aren’t protectors—they’re enforcers, the blunt edge of a system designed to grind the weak into submission.

Burn that flag if it helps. It ain't treason; it's an acknowledgment of the truth. That piece of cloth ain't the flag I bled for. The one I fought for stood for something, and right now, that something is lost. Maybe it’s time we find it again, even if we have to burn through the lies to get there.