[Intro]
Hey, you finally made it
Congratulations brother
[Verse 1]
Welcome to the Capitol (Hey)
Where the facts are skewed
(I thought Saddam had weapons)
Oh shut up, nobody's asking you
Don't trust your neighbor
He's plotting your ened
See now, the private sector is your only friend (Oh)
Cause Arab men are dangerous so we are here to protect you
But if you stop consuming they will never respect you
Don't worry 'bout them you just buy, buy, buy
You'll never be rich if you don't try, try, try
You're living in the land of the millionaire fool
See if it happened to him, sh** it can happen to you
Just buy the brochure, follow the rules
And do exactly what your bosses tell you to do (yeah)
You'll observe all the splendor that you're living
With a dog and a wife and 2.5 children
We pump you full of fear and eliminate the middlemen
So run along sheep and be a good little citizen
[Hook]
It's in the magazines it's on the TV
They try to sell us all a bunch of sh** we don't need
Strap on your sneakers get ready to stampede
We all fall down for that capital greed
I own the magazines I own the TV
And I'm the one that profits off the sh** you don't need
Strap on your sneakers get ready to stampede
You all fall down to supply my greed
[Verse 2]
Welcome to the grand expansion of the Reich
Where the madness you get is not the peace that you like
We fed the ma**es marmalade
And that's exactly what they took (how's that taste?)
Had 'em lookin' for Jesus and led 'em straight to George Bush
Buddy, don't you see it doesn't matter who's the president (why)
Captains of industry is the constituency the represent (Oh no)
So don't forget I run this motherf**er
Big business with the mind of Big Brother
I own the magazines I own the TVs and I own the radio BBC
Cause it's a war of information and guess who's winnin' it (me)
Man even if I lose that I own the ammunition kid (s**a)
So protest, and sing your rebel music
It doesn't matter cause you ain't gonna do sh**
Plotting rebellion is an act of futility
Cause nothing that you punk b**hes do is ever k**ing me
[Hook]
It's in the magazines it's on the TV
They try to sell us all a bunch of sh** we don't need
Strap on your sneakers get ready to stampede
We're all falling down for that capital greed
I own the magazines I own the TV
And I'm the one that profits off the sh** you don't need
Strap on your Nikes get ready to stampede
You climb over each other to supply my greed
You murder one another to supply my greed
You'd probably rob your own mother
And it's fine by me
[Outro]