The proletariat give their children to the factory

Treat em like a match cause when they act they met their match, G

They're fire to a scratch sweep

I'm fire to a rap sheet

Careful what he hatch in the batch he is crafty

Head is like a raft be

Heart is kinda drafty

The lumber of the state in the state of a scrap heap

Money took the last seat

Funny how he's laughing

The chairmen gotta gasp

Cause democracy is raspy

Hypocrisy is grasping articular votes

Saying the shit is rigged from particular throats

Just their specular hope

Call it a secular hoax

Some people aren't evolved to their molecular clocks

I assure you that's ringing

Gun cocked crow that it's mourning the continued loss of sleep

To the week we keep restoring

back on the shelves like elves

We're still for sale

Whenever we decide we gotta make another sell

Been forever we're an item

Wedding pails on our trail in the getaway car

String cans

Show where we are

Hearing vibrations

Fearing thy nation

Spearhead the group

To make a new rumination

Ruin my nation

Can't fix what ain't broke

Gotta start again

constitutional quotes

Who got revolvers

Quick ass resolvers

Mates get dissolved in the crawl towards their honor

The proletariat give their children to the factory

Treat em like a match they don't match in a match G

Headed where the raft be

Beheaded kinda drafty

Put lumber of the state in a scrap heap

Saw the end of the world

But I didn't see the light

Rather the earth die

Fore we recognize the plight

Can't say that in this climate

Elon changing the assignment

Some people want to F

With big letters to the hymen

Cloaked it in disguises

Trojan get inside then

Find a scapegoat for the bumps that reside when people are two timing

Playing like two sides when some have made their mind this the bed that they'll die in

Peddling fear

That the pitch has been queer

The balls hit fever pitch and knock 'em in the rear

How's that old sport

Sure to take em off the court

Think of who you court in the back of court

Ruminate

Dunce cap stupid days

Made to feel strange

With a six letter looping phrase

Catch it in the hallway

Better yet the locker room

parents only worry that the beanstalk stock is doomed

Utterly hopeless

Lock eyes with the aggressor

Who stress what's in your dresser

Bound to get a test that will lead ya to some chest hair

Pests don't care what's fair

Crueler than an anvil

Stay tapping at a missile

Have you toe tagged for what you did under it

Organized hate

No way that they can blunder it

Cappies made to plunder

Took a shovel to my sentiments

Dead men can't complain

Had to put em in the sediments