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Rated: GC · Poetry · Community · #2288276
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She speaks in rhyme but there's no sound
She's tired of all the run-around
Political words have been rewound
It's time for us all to come unbound

So pick up your damn balls, y'all dropped yours on the floor
And stand up straight, use your motherfucking core
Grow a fucking spine, 'cause we all need some more
People who remember the world from before
We're damn still sure, it's possible to restore

Now it's time for us to attack
We gotta have each other's back
We all know what they really lack
So let's give these fuckers a smack

Tired of their apologies and hollow empty words
Bouncing off echo chambers in the halls of their lords
Institutions painted with stained glass, holding caged birds
Toss in some molotovs, let 'em know how much it hurts

You've taken away our freedoms so we can't save ourselves
We've got nowhere left to live in this lions den of hell
This high standard of living we're all expected to sell
It's like our society is stuck under a spell

Empty spaces
Forgotten chases
Abandoned places
And hollow faces
Lives left bleeding in the gutter

But you don't care
You've left them there
To suffer without a sound
In cities of plastic mounds
Now they shoot themselves up
With new drugs cooked up
And peddled to the masses
By professional gassers
And disorders they make up
With fake words they corrupt

The sheep line up to eat more shit from their leaders
Doling out more experimental procedures
A bunch of pussy ass bitches, weak conceders
Waiting for handouts like little trick or treaters

The virus was manufactured, all just a front
Our elders all suffered, you stupid fucking cunts!

They don't care
It's not fair
They don't share
and we wear
their decisions
like prisons
creatin' schisms
in our rhythms
With real women
While our men
are all dead
in the head
soft like bread
they're well fed
homogenized batter
nonsensical chatter
Like the mad hatter
making them all fatter

On the lies they get fed
They fill me with dread
but you don't seem to see
that this has a steep fee
gonna slap you in the face
when they come to take their place
in the laws they will embrace
of the people there's no trace

That's why I walk alone
Like Post Malone
Checking the buildings
Numbing my feelings

Gotta stand up like a rocker
Start rhymin like Betty Crocker
And mixin' like Alan Walker
Before they stop all us talkers
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