|
So, uh, I was screwing around one night, and I decided to write some anti-b*s* verse (maybe to eventually be featured on a friend's upcoming political hiphop album). This is a rough draft that I wrote last year and had actually forgotten about - I just found it in text-to-speech form on my Winamp playlist while drawing.
If you like it, let me know. If you hate it, DEFINITELY let me know.
You're a wily thief mr resident,
tying us down, lying to gain
all our blood and treasure,
you get pleasure from Iraqi pain.
knockin the states for failing to plan
when you're the lying fool
got us in this jam
what's wrong? daddy not love you?
so you screw us all to improve your view
on life, on the world, PNAC attack
got the rest of us pissed
and i'll tell you now you won't be missed,
cuz you'll lose it all someday -
maybe to the fbi, maybe the cia,
or your old friends rummy or dick.
it's just sick, you grown child,
trying to fund your followers
to be your friend, though in the end
you're just outstyled.
outclassed
by the free-wheeling neocons
kissing your ass,
waiting for your fall, so they can snag
the power from you, leave you holding the bag
third class first world dictator, a legend in your own mind,
try holding a job without a handout from on high,
awol loser with a taste for the sauce, that pretzel was a warning
that you need to get tossed as soon as we can get you out,
throw your clout and watch the quicksand,
iraq-nam is gonna drag you down,
and daddy and carlyle won't be able to lend a hand.
here comes a second term - prison - ICC - maybe even
the gallows for a nuremberg hater who can't stand the ruthless truth
of a pissed off populace and angrier youth
so you've got the guns - we've got the world,
they're on our side and you're on the slide
straight down to hell, where the sins of your father
got nothing on your pride-driven crimes,
time to grow up and pay the piper, sniper, you're a viper
who needs to get defanged, watch as the great unwashed
come to your door, and bang--bang--bang, down comes the tent poles
of your low-rent circus maximus life of war
And on that day I'll pray for the strength not to kick you in your face as you pass by in chains,
remembering the lying denying past of you and your fellow traitors and corporate raiders,
killing our future to erase your own past. your tenure won't last.
failures are all you are, overpriced fuck-ups tied to the mast
as the ship of state heads straight for the tyrannical gate,
but it's locked, and you're blocked -
cuz we're growing in number and we know all your tricks,
like turning our mailmen into private dicks -
TIA, PATRIOT Act, it's all police state tactics from a low-IQ coward
and a bunch of fascist thugs who stole their way into power.
Mark our words, it's over for you. You hear that fool? You're through.
(Keep in mind, if you really hate it, or think I'm weird, I was very relaxed while writing this. :smoke:)
|
Printer-friendly format
Email this thread to a friend
Bookmark this thread
(1000+ posts)
Send PM |
Profile |
Ignore
