Verse 1:
there once was a song called "arrest the president." contemporary music. a
hit with the kids. it was a top ten. i wasn't pop then so i missed the bus a bit.
but politics was on everybody's hot-this-summer list. the cool kids were all rocking votes.
i shit you not. but i was pistol whipping cops for hiphop.
up on a soap box...yelling into megaphones
killing hard rocks and using carcasses as stepping stones.
i had to promise i'd stop holding my marches.
the day that chris columbus got crucified on golden arches.
but my pedestal was too tall to climb off.
in fact, that's the reason for the high horse.
from here i can see the marines in hummers on a conquest.
underdogs with wonderbras in a push up contest.
all for the sake of military recruitment.
it felt like kent state the way they targeted the students.
so i galloped off whistling "ohio."
the rest of em were stuck doing stand up at a cricket convention.
who would they die for?
is it the same machine that leaves the quality of your life poor?
an abominable colony of cyborgs
clogging up the property that i bought with eye sores.
Chorus:
that clever ad campaign ain't worth
the time taken from minimum waged labor.
i don't care how half naked or fake she looks.
she smells like dirty cash and poorly aged paper books.
who would she die for? (slow down gandhi, you're killin' em)
who would she die for? (slow down gandhi, you're killin' em)
Verse 2:
now it's whistle blower vs the pistol holder. case dismissed.
they'll lock you up and throw away the key witness.
justice is the whim of a judge. check his chest density.
it leaves much room for error, and the rest is left to destiny.
the west memphis 3 lost paradise.
now it's death penalty vs suicidal tendencies.
and all i wanted was a fucking pepsi.
"making you think you're ugly is a million dollar industry." corrina bain
if they could sell sanity in a bottle they'd be charging for compressed air.
they're marketing health care.
they demonized welfare. middle class eliminated.
the rich get richer til the poor get educated.
but some of y'all still haven't grown into your face. and your face doesn't
quite match your head. and i'm waiting for a brain to fill that dead space
that's left. you're all "give me ethnicity or give me dreads!"
trustafundian rebel without a cause for alarm.
because when push turns to shove you jump into your forefather's arms.
he's a banker. you're part of the system.
off go the dreadlocks, in comes the income.
the briefcase, the freebase, the sickness, the symptom.
when the cameras start rolling stay the fuck out of the picture, pilgrim.
slow down gandhi, you're killin' em.
mr. save the world...spare us the details.
save the females from losing interest.
miss save the universe...you're a damsel in distress.
tied down to a track of isolated incidents.
generalize my disease. i need a taste of what its like.
living off the fat of kings. i'll play the scab at your hunger strike.
one love, one life, one too many victims.
republicrat-democran, 1 party system.
media goes in a frenzy. they're stripped of their credentials.
presidential candidates can't debate over an instrumental.
let 'em freestyle. winner takes all.
when the music's dead i'll have ted nugent's head hanging on my wall.
kill one of ours...and we'll kill one of yours with some "friendly fire."
that's a funny term...like "civil war."
6 in the morning police at my door.
now my nights consist of two toothpicks and eyelids.
a crucifix and vitamins. music that is pirated.
new flavored food made of mutated hybrids.
ughhh! they tell me it's not...that...bad.
it fucks you up good, but it's not...that...bad.
they hold onto these tales til its the dog...that...wags.
god save us all if he lets the cat out the bag.
who's the one to blame for the strain of the vocal cords?
who can pen hateful threats but can't hold a sword?
it's the same one who complain about the global war
but can't overthrow the local joker that they voted for.
they call the shots, but they're not in the line fire.
i'd call the cops but they break in the line of duty.
call a stop to the abuse of authority.
the truth keeps calling me, and i'm a live to tell the story.
So look for truth. quit seeking forgiveness.
you need to cut the noose, but you don't believe in scissors.
you support the troops by wearing yellow ribbons?
just bring home my motherfucking brothers and sisters.
slow down gandhi, you're killin' 'em.