[Los] Shooter baby, it's Los Can yall hear me out there? I hope so [Los - Verse 1] What if I told you that pain was suitable That hardships, bad times
Peanut farmer, b-movie actor Awakening coughs Desires for powers Prime the ministers Watch them go off You have to be hardy to rest on your laurels
And though it seems heaven sent We ain't ready to have a black president And though it seems heaven sent We ain't ready to have a black president Yes
Qui est noir, qui est blanc, Qui, le mari, l'amant, Qui est le bourreau, la victime, Qui est le traitre, le heros, Qui est le flic ou le barbeau? Je vous
All hands on deck and off my neck Mutiny plagues, my ship has been wrecked This hook is bloody from tearing out the throats Of traitors like you who poison
Hey you, this means war We're gonna show you our festering sores Down with the rats under the floor You feeling sick yet? Wait, there's more We got a
Haven't slept in seven days, I gotta keep my story straight Cleaning up my unclean way and I got to stay awake They're on the sidewalk, on the rooftop
You know I want so badly to believe in unity I wish I didn?t know what I know but I know better So tell me? Who do you trust? No one Who do you trust
One for you and two for them is Not enough, not enough To work you fingers bloody Not enough One for you and ten for them is Not enough, not enough To
Eighty proof, a hundred proof Undiluted by the truth How much proof do you need to believe? That your crutch has left you crippled As you nurse the poison
Another Sunday morning sermon (I won't be there) Another blasted pastor (I won't be there) You'll never find me on bended knee That ain't the way Anxiety
My friends have jobs that they hate But they show up anyway Your friends complain about the help in their estates My friends got stories to believe but
Look at Banksy, listen to Zinn And smell the asphalt down Tiananmen I got enough Loose Change to cap the tooth On an (Insidious) Truth Join the traitors
I'm no one trick, two-bit, third world choice I wanna be elected I'll meet you at the clinic in a gold Rolls Royce I wanna be elected The kids need a
Call out the dogs locked in their cages It's killing time, it's killing time And I won't be late Dig up the witches burnt up at stakes It's killing time
Media media, I'm fucking sick of ya You fill my life with bullshit trivia Radio radio, I don't wanna know I gotta see it for myself, I'm going to the
They forgot us on the block Got us in the box Solitary confinement How violent are these cops? They need an early retirement How many rallies will I watch
hands up hands up all in the rut yeah do the chicken scratch for the next cigarette butt where me and jesus christ were on the corner trying to hail a
