| Do you know who you are.
|
| Do you know who you are fucking with?
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| Do you know, the access, to weapons, money and power
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| That we have? |
| We will fucking kill you!
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| I’m the ugliest version of passed down toxic capitalist
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| Rapid emcee perversion -- I’m America!
|
| Your bleeding-heart liberal drivel gets squashed
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| Wash em with sterilized rhyme patriot-guided weaponry bomb
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| From the makers of the devious hearts -- I’m America!
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| You bitchy little dogs don’t even phase my basic policy
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| The bomb’s smarter, my Ronald Reagan’s crush Carter
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| With Bay of Pig tactics makin young men into martyrs
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| (Come on down!) Come to my happy promised land
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| Smiley faced opportunity cypher
|
| And jump on the CoFlow pension plan
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| A proletariat, crushing State of the Union
|
| Between serpentine words and mass confusion
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| Of media controlled blurb advertising disillusionment
|
| Your family will love my low-rent, low-life
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| No-brain, reality-dagger, MOVEMENT
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| Hop over the border for amusement; |
| try to test the waters
|
| That the other slaughter crews pay all they dues in
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| You’re up against Jesus freaks, Mormon corporations, and Young Republicans
|
| Indelible NATO force hidden agenda, puppet governments
|
| I’m lovin it! |
| Keep the people guessin who I’m runnin with
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| Control the population and hide behind sacred covenants
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| Fuckin with me!!! |
| Means liberal wildlife burned in gasoline seas
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| And I’m on a magnetic third world planet with metal plates in your knees
|
| Can’t you hear the disenchanted, hollow scream of
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| Gabriel’s reflected new wind instrument, a judgment played in flat C
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| I replace humans like robots in a GM factory (warning! warning!)
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| Then export metaphors to sweat shops, cause the price is satisfactory
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| Your pious little cries of injustice get met with apathy
|
| (Awww, SHUT UP!!) Soak, cloak, hormone injected dairy product
|
| And conservative right-wing anti-eroticism
|
| Resevoirs and power lines in your neighborhood cause botchilism
|
| SENSELESS! |
| Join the census, censorship sentence ascendance
|
| Triple-felon citizen paid pennance!
|
| Dissension against C-F ends in, penetentiary residence
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| Lock em up first, then ask questions
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| Omniscient presence, my CHARM is the weapon
|
| With cameras mics and satellites that leave privacy breathless
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| You don’t even know the chemicals you’ve ingested
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| Urine tested -- BEAT INNOCENT MAN 'TIL HE CONFESSES
|
| «Who's America? |
| Who’s America? |
| Who’s America? |
| Who’s America?»
|
| «Who's America? |
| Who’s America? |
| Who’s America? |
| Who’s America?»
|
| I’m America! |
| I’m America! |
| I’m America! |
| Mr. Len, get busy on em!
|
| I’m America arrogant! |
| Terminus verbal curfew murders
|
| You either purchase my products or you’re worthless, that’s my service!
|
| Don’t look into the oculars of a daylight saver
|
| Eraser, city-headed momument defacer comprising of
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| Patriot droids, sent into the void with lead linings
|
| Employed by the bureaucrats of automatic twisted rhyme timing
|
| You’re guaranteed nothing but my fat little finger
|
| That lingers one inch off of the big button -- LET’S START THIS!
|
| I’m Sarin gas, hide in your apartments
|
| I’m stealth like a robot hidden in the fat asshole of Cartman
|
| And give a crippling fuck like sand sharkskin condom
|
| To your apparent vaginal problem — the hottest shit on Soundbombing
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| I’m American til infinite justice measure to Pesticide Cemetary
|
| Invite you to cross the border then SHIT on your divinities
|
| What language is that? |
| I’m angusih in fact, tangle with a
|
| Star-spangled standard issue gat for crowd management
|
| Talk loud and get enshrouded in a hot cloud of harassment
|
| By the crowd force of my mental pedestrian checker
|
| That smashes subordinate skulls and update the file in your dental records
|
| You tried to get elected but the crowd is my paid hecklers (BOO! BOO!)
|
| You just stepped into the spectrum of paranoid word rainbows
|
| Thinkin you sick with a sihlouette, burn transit cop out his plain clothes
|
| I’m America! |
| This is where the pain grows like poppies
|
| In a Field of Dreams I paid for, I’ll burn it down if operated sloppily
|
| COPY? |
| My economic sanction rhyme style got your syllables
|
| Scraping for rice and riding in a pre-1960 jalopy
|
| My favorite flavour of gas is mustard
|
| I’m fuckin a blind hermaphrodite icon and convincin you that it’s justice!
|
| «Who's America? |
| Who’s America? |
| Who’s America? |
| Who’s America?»
|
| Treason will not be tolerated!
|
| You have been enlisted. |
| into a lifestyle that you may not change!
|
| Understand! |
| You can’t be happy. |
| and smile. |
| for the cameras!
|
| MotherFUCKER! |