(Thirtyseven)
History is nothing but an ad for being white
So I piss on your a**umptions and your cracker Jesus Christ
Yeah, hi folks...whats up, I like to rhyme yo
And leave your mind blown through your slave labor iPhones
Stop b**hing cuz they're giving you prescription d**
You don't have a condition, chump, you've just given up
...you were hoping it was hopeless and bam, now it is
And you got every last excuse that you need for cowardice
Drives me crazy, dude..how many times I gotta say to you
Obama is an actor and Bill Clinton f**ing hated you
No matter what, the same players make their dividends
(they're only legalizing weed to keep us all from k**ing them)
The internet exists first and foremost to search for p**no
(yeah, word to axl rose's perfect corn rows)
Prove me wrong...see, I know what movie's on
And I see through, beyond and back around to do this song
So move along...
(Louis Mackey)
Experts flock to speaking functions to sit and talk
While the preacher and priest are running to the liquor spot
Living stops when the numbers on the ticker drop
Seems your fickle God has gone and took a trip abroad
Not sour or broken even in the bowels of the omen
I'm just trying to get my piece of power to broker
It's not subliminal, though they doubt that you're focused
Just common criminals who work out in the open
...walk down Wall Street like the Man with No Name
I confront you as the type to stand stone faced
You scurried to get out of my hand's honed aim
Etched "GREED" in your forehead, you ran home maimed
To get back in order, while I drunkenly strut my wares
At the corner of Wall and Na**au, stumble up the stairs
A kiss goodbye, swig the rye, and hit cover
...I got a big surprise coming for big brother