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Visceral Confusion

025/365

Weed money
Smoke money
Drink money

Ebola Ain’t Here
No money
No food money

Stay hungry
Shiny Jordan’s
New Rims
No school clothes for the kids

Abandoned government homes
Homeless abandoned government drones
Domes lacking fundamentals
For their mental
Present flow
Nonpresidential
Oval office rental

Open for rent
Spent thinking of votes spent
Counting every garbage cent

Ascent, here stackin’ cash
Thinkin’ that it’s gonna to last
Suffering Succatash
Money movin’ kinda fast

War Money
Fight Money
Nuke Money
Die Money

No education
Survive funny
Die funny

Corporate America
Call the bitch Erika
Stare at her
Satirical miracle
Fear the hoe

Saints jump hoops to adopt and save, can’t breed
Monsters freely enslave their spread seeds
Feeding malicious habits
Enough money to have this
They’ll reproduce like rabbits
While mass starvation happens

God forgives the rich
The church said so
Offering night,
Priest drives a Benz, though
Financial niche hole
Para Christo
Para me, though
It’ll be so
God’s will, bro

A dollar a day
Enough money to pray
God needs bus money
Even God won’t to stay

No money?
Eat his son
Do what told when done
Don’t be a dummy
It’s obvious, son
Cannibalism, FUNNY!
American, number one
Drink that holy blood
Drink it for fun, son of a gun

On second thought, run, quit, split!
Shiiiiiiiiiiiieet!

Dollar, dollar bill
Gold hills
Real ill
Stand still

If it’s a crime
They’ll pay you to stay alive
And house you
And slave you until the day die
And hate you for all of time
For not committing a crime

Prison for following rules they’ve risen
No one listens
No one knows you’re missin’

Broke Potheads end dead behind bars
Rich killers awarded Exotic cars
Movie deals
Movie stars

Fiends, government funding
Mom’s children are starving
A million dollars for golfing
Two dollars for munchies
One dollar for something!

Who’s runnin’ this crash?
We’re like an itch earth can’t scratch
The plague that DID last
Cancer, the black rash

Trigger on your brother
Bitch still owes you a dollar
No regret, no tomorrow
No thought of who he is
Not after committing this imaginary dis
For a number that doesn’t even exist

Unless a flag with a fake face fall flat and say this to your face it’ll remain a disgrace in this time and place. That’s the truth, that’s the taste.

Start the shunning
We’re not this cunning
Not alone
Divided we’re nothing

Don’t think it makes sense to attempt an escape from the system you exist in. It doesn’t. Not using anything you find inside the system. That’s part of the illusion.