Sims
Sims & Mike Mictlan & Toki Wright
Sims
Sims
Sims & Sean McPherson
Sims
Sims
Sims
Sims & Crescent Moon
Sims & Cecil Otter
Sims
Sims & Cecil Otter & P.O.S. & Mike Mictlan & Dessa
[Sample]
3000 miles from home, an American army is fighting for you—
*Radio tuning*
—do everything we can to bring piece to our land through the guiding of God's hand—
*Radio tuning*
—this message is brought to you as a public service by your Department of Wealth and Hellfare—
*Radio tuning*
—And crown thy good with brotherhood
From sea to shining sea
Left, right, march to your gravesite
They’ve got them ready on the frontline
Every man, woman, and child for miles single file
Take a number and they’ll call you when it comes time
The air feels thick, not as thick as
The black smoke blocking out the sunshine
Speak up boy they can’t hear your voice
And I never had a choice when
They hung mine
(Crescent Moon)
You put up your pride, they burn, gonna burn it down
You’re speaking your mind, they turn, gonna turn it down
They feed you their lies, you worms better learn it now //
Live by it, learn to smile, big riots burn awhile
Thank you for saving us savages
Godless primates that never had a prayer
Bottom of the food chain around where the maggots is
Stripping antagonist layer by layer by layer
Now do we divide or do we divide?
You don’t believe in evolution or improving with time
Now you’re standing there talking about who’s truly divine
I know right from wrong-doing where as you need a sign from the sky
Back, back to where you all came
Give me every brother back lynched in your god’s name //
Your lord’s gold plated on a chain
Mine’s hanging from a tree by his neck in the rain
I got blood that walked a trail of tears
Walked a trail of tears, survived and kept coming
How am I supposed to feel about honoring my country
When I’m looking at their killer every time I see a twenty?
The fuck is you talking about, you’re so patriotic?
I ain’t fighting in a war I don’t believe dying for
Hide behind that sticker on your bumper
You ain’t sending folded-up flags back home to their mothers
You ain’t overseas fighting, dying with the others
You would rather send your neighbor’s niece’s cousin’s nephew’s little brother
Hiding in your mansion in the suburbs
Like your god wouldn’t judge you sleeping under silk covers
We’re about to reach Vietnam numbers
While your president leads you in prayer for his blunders
We’re about to reach Vietnam numbers
Why don’t you go ahead and say me a prayer while you’re under
(Sims)
I believe in the spirit and the feathered serpent
But never in the curtain words sewn by your sermon
Or the service of your churches
Tighten up the wire turning citizens to servants
It’s the constant chaotic fear of bin Laden
Either him or it’s Saddam, good god we hit bottom
But here comes your cowboy and he’s a hero, he promise
Waving crosses and pistols and fistfuls of profits
But there’s blood on your hands
And blood in your pockets
Blood fills your goblets
Patriotic thugs licking scuds from their office with no conscious
I hope you choke on your own broken soul
Overdose, your god’s a remote
I know you’re using her for social control
Abusing human rights because your views confused a birthright
And you want me to march left, right, left
Death toll, you’ll reap what your “said so” sews
No, won’t march for your CEO’s
I roll with a murder of crows flying over the bones
Over the wreckage and so we go
Why would I waste a mile in your crooked footsteps
We don’t see eye to eye, you see me as that prodigal son
But I see I got nowhere to move and nowhere to run
But that’s the way you got power from day one
From the slaves that you captured
Sell them into hell and tell them to wait for the rapture
To the
Daily slaves you manufacture
Master, pastor, same hegemony
Subtle demise makes a legitimate plea
Jesus please save me from the Jesus freaks
There’s vultures in the skies and there’s soldiers overseas
Christians on a mission with missiles positioned and ready to launch
Tell somebody’s ghost it better get ready to haunt
God loves America the most because it gives him what he wants
Frontline was produced by Benzilla.