This is a throw away rap for entertainment.
Name me “terrorist” because I spit explosives.
My attitude can’t fly it’s so corrosive.
The patriot act doesn’t cover me
Because I pledge allegience to nothing peaceful.
I wear jeans and I soldiered on.
But I don’t have that job so the smoulders on.
Everywhere I look at Americans it’s face to palm.
It’d be a fine island if you fuckers weren’t on it.
I’m not the Be attitude in your bonnet.
I’m the future caravan. Get your white ass on it.
The bandwagon out the sand when you face the truth.
I’m Keyser Soze then I vanish. Poof!
Rub the bottle and I pop up.
It’s three of your wishes then I’m fed up.
You better sooth the spirit when you’re walking near it.
If you don’t fear it, you’ll get your cranium cleared out.
Explode in your brain like I’m rocket science.
You let me in so go get compliant.
Make a nice tight seal so you can keep this thought.
The future got bought up. I’m getting you caught up.
I’m at the top in my pin stripe get right
Everything I do to you invites your spitefullness.
I smile and clap cause you’re so delightful
when you’re pissed like that it’s like you’re wearing diapers.
The way your wisdom works it’s quite the same.
You claim history but it’s a future’s game.
You didn’t recall the facts of the world at all.
It’s a jab from my left but you see a southpaw.
Pack up last call. Drinking off your glass jaw.
Is that all, packing in the cab yelling “asshole”.
Thinking my freeze will thaw like I’m a TV dinner
Try to feed on me and get apprehended.
