A Report to the Shareholders / Kill Your Masters

Beware of horses I mean a horse is a horse of course, but who rides is important Sitting high with a uniform, barking orders, demanding order And I'm scared that I talk too much about what I think's going on I got a way with this, they might drag me away for this Put me in a cage for this, I might pay for this I just say what I want like I'm made for this But I'm afraid some days I might be wrong Maybe that's why me and Mike get along (Hey) Not from the same part of town, but we both hear the same sound coming (Woo!) And it sounds like war (Woo!) And it breaks our hearts When I started this band, didn't have no plans, didn't see no arc (eh) Just run with the craft, have a couple laughs Make a buck and dash, yeah (yeah) Get a little dap like, "Yeah, I'm the fucking man!" (yeah) Maybe give a little back like, "Here, I do what I can" It's all jokes and smoke, 'til the truth start schemin' Can't contain the disdain for y'all demons You talk clean and bomb hospitals So I speak with the foulest mouth possible And I drink like a Vulcan losing all faith in the logical I will not be confused for docile I'm free, motherfuckers, I'm hostile Choose the lesser of the evil people, and the devil still gon' win It could all be over tomorrow, kill our masters and start again But we know we all afraid, so we just simply cry and march again At the Dem' Conven' my heart broke apart when I seen them march mommas in As I rap this verse right now, got tears flowing down my chocolate skin Told the truth and I've been punished for it, must be a masochist 'cause I done it again Ooh, Mike said, "Uterus", they acting like Mike said, "You a bitch" To every writer who wrote it, misquoted it Mike says, "You a bitch, you a bitch, you a bitch!" Add a "nigga" for that black writer that started that sewer shit I manoeuvre through manure like a slumdog millionaire El-P told me, "Fuck them devils, Mike, we gon' be millionaires" I respond with a heavy, "Yeah" Big bro says, "Fuck that, toughen up" "Stay ready, write raw raps, shit rugged rough" The devil don't sleep, us either El spits fire, I spit ether We the gladiators that oppose all Caesars Coming soon on a new world tour Probably play the score for the World War At the apocalypse, play the encore Turn around, see El, and I smile Hell coming and we got about a mile Until it's over I remain hostile Mere mortals, the gods coming, so miss me with the whoopty-whoop You take the devil for God, look how he doin' you I'm Jack Johnson, I beat a slave catcher snaggletooth I'm Tiger Flowers with a higher power, hallelu' Life'll get so bad it feel like God mad at you But that's a feeling, baby, ever lose, I refuse I disabuse these foolish fools of they foolish views I heard the revolution coming, you should spread the news Garvey-mind, Tyson-punch, this is bad news So feel me, follow me Devil done got on top of me Bad times got a monopoly Give up, I did the opposite Pitch perfect, did it properly Owner killed by his property This life'll stress you like Orson Welles on the radio War after war of the world'll make all your saneness go And these invaders from Earth are twerkin' on graves, you know Can't wait to load up the silos and make your babies glow It's so abusive, you'll beg somebody to roofie you They'll snatch your hope up and use it like it's a hula hoop And it's a loop, they talk to you just like their rulers do These fucking fools have forgotten just who been fooling who Kill your, kill- kill your kill your, kill- Kill your, kill- kill- kill your, kill- Kill your masters (c'mon) Kill your, kill- kill your kill your, kill- Kill your, kill- kill- kill your, kill- Kill your masters Kill your, kill- kill your kill your, kill- Kill your, kill- kill- kill your, kill- Kill your masters (c'mon) Kill your, kill- kill your kill your, kill- Kill your, kill- kill- kill your, kill- Kill your masters Children of men on the throne, roving with no atonement Got me feeling like I'm Clive Owen rowing through a future frozen The flow's a burning wind, blowing to your coast and Now in cages 'cause we rode the waves of your explosions Done appealing to our killers, man, to stop the bleeding (done appealing) This song's a dirty bomb for they dirty dealings Boots on the roof, I'm Charlie Mingus dumping through the ceiling Master P-ing on these lost Europeans thievin' Shit be grim, and De La born a reaper Born in the beast and fixin' a feast and tearin' its features The world surges, the nation's nervous The crowds awaken, they can't disperse us We ain't at your service, won't stay sedated Won't state our numbers for our names and remaining faceless We dignified, they can't erase us We ain't asleep, we rope-a-dope through the flames Man, the world gonna ride on what's implied in the name Run 'em Kill your, kill- kill your kill your, kill- Kill your, kill- kill- kill your, kill- Kill your masters Kill your, kill- kill your kill your, kill- Kill your, kill- kill- kill your, kill- Kill your masters Kill your, kill- kill your kill your, kill- Kill your, kill- kill- kill your, kill- Kill your masters Kill your, kill- kill your kill your, kill- Kill your, kill- kill- kill your, kill- Kill your masters