lip service to the face by the grace of the black and gold, cans of mace, rusted chains for untouchables tickets must be sold tickets must be sold tickets must be sold [prof.] the privileged call a party putting perspective aside already primed for the masses of costumed thugs to arrive and by thugs I mean the people who haven’t worked a day in their life to fight a system of oppression racial tension and strife [avgn] aight, inattentive and ripe for a rapture where slaves are no longer caged but these knaves are still their masters bravest of facebook crusaders buzzfeed buzzards bloodsucking media carrion as internet saviors [prof.] they yik and they yak, yak and they yik talk back until they drown in their own filth sick flak never taken leaves no room in the womb pampered little children making millions off your tomb [avgn] boom went the bomb of the song and long live the dead so we can bed credit cards lay to rest the impoverished in the red with their credit scores while the fed roars, “what’s heaven to a whore?” lip service to the face by the grace of the black and gold, cans of mace, rusted chains for untouchables tickets must be sold tickets must be sold tickets must be sold [avgn] not to convolute the strife of a prostitute when hell is the route providing solace for you, (sold!) we’ll sell your story on lcd screens from pornhub to college campuses [prof.] this place is separate but equal from everything i’ve heard and those in charge of the flock have lost track of the herd, or maybe they just never cared, whisper, "mum is the word," about things that upset donors, man that shit is absurd [avgn] and incurs quite a wrath our ivory-tusked tower tongues all but quiet and as the rabble babble baffles the very battle itself we simply suffer four years before shepherding them out [prof.] there’s a party going down at the barn better bring the whole damn force and roll up on the lawn pack the pepper spray and the tasers too for university kids who don’t look like you lip service to the face by the grace of the black and gold, cans of mace, rusted chains for untouchables tickets must be sold tickets must be sold tickets must be sold

fresh back into the darkness barking off a day old starbucks coffee lost me at the cost of kamikaze 'cause he cursed at the cure so the few’d accrue a few coughing lewd on their balconies balk loudly and like another facebook post for the dead, done, dry, and the doped formaldehyde in the juice and all of you care so we can all share some eight dollars shares shit, that’s more than an hour for most and dammit here i am all political so while i’m at it, grab up some kerosene 'cause we can’t seem stifle these fires without gasoline or read a book sans a bag of amphetamines call ‘em fags, don’t let ‘em get married an unborn life is still a life mother the victim of rape, under-aged or otherwise... so shoot the cop that shot the kid but no more lethal injection we can’t get over racism this is two-thousand and fourteen don’t pump water to their houses budget for oil crisis everybody be a feminist this is two-thousand and fourteen rest in peace robin williams but no peace for iran shit, iraq, you know what I meant the american way, uneducated speak before you think no filtering guilty until proven innocent don’t resist abusive husband or twenty years imprisonment then orphanage for children this is two-thousand and fourteen sex slaves, prostitutes, and pimps world-wide drug trade: billions order over internet this is two-thousand and fourteen twitter, vine and instagram snapchat, badoo, bang with friends, soundcloud, skype, bit coin webcams this is two-thousand and fourteen speak before you think no filtering guilty until proven innocent... in their air space get shot down go to school and get shot down come out hands up get shot down shoot until we’re underground hate me and i’ll shoot you down love me and i’ll shoot you down trust me and i’ll shoot you down shoot me: i’m underground.