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Political Group 1

I'm Not Rapper

Rap

Lyrics by Jack Thomas

The world is in a perpetual state of chaos.
Let it get to you and get nothing done.
Learn to accept the universe is uncontrollable
And it’ll be under you’re control

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Hopeless, smoked chest, cough, toke, rest

Broke bloke, vest, glock, coke, meth

Dope bag, hot block, do-rag, crack rocks, hot spot, clock in, crackhead smack talk
Bake in the sun, sirens, scared of bacon chasing gun violence
Gotta run, hide things, no more fun, five years isn’t worth a try, fear, let it keep driving

Steer, the blazing bush speaks ideas, smoke and mirrors, head kushined in clouds, reeks, the voice bleak, speaks loud, clear,
“Make your move now or lose out. No boohoos allowed. No tears.
Stand out. Choose what goes down. Don’t be held bound, be hell-bound.”
Clip in the hand, ticking trigger finger, mad, at the nigger killer, sad, and little bitter

But the pigment, though a figment, like a brand creates fictions in the minds of indignants. Like a clan they’re persistent

Back around, ready, seeing red, eyes steady
Thought tough, slipped up, tripped, shit bluff
Not quick enough, not slick, fucked up, tough luck
In a daze trapped in a haze, crazed laughs, let it phase to the brain
Blast him away
Regret settling before meddling, ring the bell to raise the devil, win in a fit of rage, strange compelling crave to misbehave
The end is just a blink away, need to hide and…

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Blind Allegiance

Jack updates us on his current political standing.

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The long line grows. Followers chosen by God herself. To enslave the children. To fight the dark forces. Hostages for a better world. When white robed phantoms spread their word from beyond the grave.
And they begin. “Where is my…” with air quotes, “Money?”

Revive the fallen. Destroying and eradicating the dark forces. Blue suited shiny badges of honor with guns pressed against the backs of the perceived enemy. A strike by the rebellion unable to regain the dwindled numbers of the “home team” reaching to even the odds by reducing the “away.”

Shackles and iron bars for the shades not aligned with the morally gray stars on the flag. Red bloods of white skin on the blue ball owned by green presidents.

Trumpets play as the blue birds chirp overhead. The distraction for those chewing gum silent masturbating to gun violence.

Oh dear, how the toppling towers teeter. No use crying over spilled oil. The dividers keep the…

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Inner Demons

With a crumbling country we face the biggest Social-Political divide since the civil war.
This Lyrical Poem tells Jack’s take and much more.

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There’s something innocent in thought
Theories of what’s not caught in the web
Vanish to the back
Knotted after tied in the hot headed
Hard to not get in bed
Wedded to the beliefs of the dead when its fed daily
But instead what we mean seems to flee us
Jesus died for no reason, see us
Beating, mistreating each other even when we don’t mean to
We can’t help, we’re helpless and selfish
Hope for better version of ourselves to shuffle through
So we stop hurting each other to do the things we want to do
But it’s senseless, we can’t stop even if we wanted
It’s who we are, it’s who we’ve been, it’s who we’ll be
The monsters we don’t acknowledge
Degrees wasted from college
Knowledge lost at every turn, at all costs
Lodged in our souls the demons we hope don’t grow
Ignoring them, we don’t know
They’re slowly taking control
Blinding our sight, ruining our lives
Driving the ride down the hill with the lights off
While we’re hopped on pills denying its part of us
Fighting to destroy the world we’re tried to build
Darkness we’ve tried to conceal reveals itself to have always been real as hell
A president that won’t chill but stays cold
Bold messenger birds deliver blue messages which hurt the innocent youth, the immigrant too
We don’t know what to do
Media buries the truth and we just believe what they want us to
Pin us against one another because we don’t bother to fact check each other
We’re monsters just like our four fathers

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We'll Never Admit

A political lyrics examination of history repeating itself and the denial that we are the reason and cause.

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Classic tragedy
He, the bastard be
Disaster piece
In fact, lets see
What the ratchet snatched with bad habits
Lasting past due dates and black magic
Bewitched, that son of a bitch has us
He laughs at us from atop his tall towers
The flaming bush sees planes
But they can’t trump the winner of this game
This nigga is insane joking with lives in such ways
Refrains us from saying shit out of fear it’ll be our turn if we play
It’s not the way that it should be
But this world runs as a fantasy
The one he imagines it to be
Put a crown on 45
He’s won as it seems
As long as we don’t act
These words remain fact
Remain intact during his everlasting attack on our values and past
Erasing what we have just to grow his fucking stack
Chasing bitches to grab by the pussy
And we bitch, but we also laugh
We’re half the problem as to why he’s where he’s at
But we’ll never admit to that
We’ll never admit to that

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Voiceless Virtual Rage

As the internet continues to behave as the trashcan where we throw our opinions our collapse becomes more obvious from a distance.

Jack vents in this angered piece.
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Many of us exist in a perpetual denial of our own design. Screaming at each other, it’s unclear if its for change or to disperse the pint up energy. Casting blame in every direction of what we feel most guilty of. Unable to control these impulses.

And we continue, and continue, and continue, and nothing ever changes.

The ever increasing rage of society which began with the children which felt neglected and voiceless, like a plague contagion spread to the adults and the elderly.
But it’s never real. Our virtual personas are the monsters. In person, we’re too coward to make the same stands, but behind the safety of our electronics we find it justified to diminish the life of another. Because they aren’t real. Because we’ve never met them.
Enlightened or not. With reason or not. We believe we are justified in a pursuit. The world must know what we know, and believe what we believe the way we believe it. Because we believe it.

We’re unable to stop. It’s who we’ve become. The pause button was lost when we gave up on developing our voices in person and now even the elderly behave like children, simply trying to disperse this brokenness we’ve been handed.

There’s no fix in sight and the rain clouds will make it over the hills soon. They’re coming our way. We’ve never seen an umbrella so there is no protection. We’re stuck screaming.

It’s what we do. We point fingers here, and…

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Meanwhile...

A thought on the madness of American’s on 6/22/18

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We murder and enslave over who’s dirt is who’s, then fear crossing imaginary lines.
Yet, we allow the children to starve and the sick to die having all the resources.
We cast blame on each other and deceive one another, then struggle to trust anyone’s word.
Yet, we riot for truth and shun those who don’t lie so well.
We refuse to acknowledge when we don’t, and rather ruin things than confess.
Yet, we hold guns, make mistakes and send each other into cages knowing we weren’t ready.

 

Meanwhile…
They rob us and the bombs fall.

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The Great Subtraction

Kids in cages.
A Poem.

45 is smaller than 0.

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I’m going to flip the shit if they crack another motherfucking whip
Can’t handle it when I can’t spit
Rambling blazed for days
Holding a fucking clip
Shit stays the same way
It’s making me sick
Staring down barrels drunk
Like we’re outta luck
In stasis sterile faces that won’t quit
Cages mistake small kids
Taken away
They can’t be seen
It seems history repeats it’s scenes
Screams don’t stop the suit’s schemes
We should be ashamed
Turn the cheek and sneak away
Cell phone in hand
Selfies behind screens
Eyes on ‘em like laser beams
Hit record on that cam
Life the video game
It’s our mask while we hide in the dark
We’re Batman
All going insane
Yelling the same phrases night and day
No response
It’s like that
No one listens and things don’t change
Deranged, we keep playing the same way
Won’t fight back
Maybe someone brave will stand and save the day
But every time we call the hero someone ends up shot
It’ll happen until we’re down to zero
The Great Subtraction in action
This extinction event is meant so we can’t repent
When the end comes through
The end meant for those that won’t do
What they want us to do
The way they want us to
That’s just for me and you

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But 'Merca

A country of emotional jackasses with little thought.

They clearly don't understand the situation with the children.

The don't understand the adults they arrive with are not family, they are coyotes or smugglers attempting to enter the country pretending those are their children.

They clearly don't understand anyone that can prove they are related manages to stay together as a family.

They clearly don’t understand coming into the country illegally is... Well, illegal... Therefore, a crime... Thus, they are criminals just by coming in illegally. Because... Its illegal.

They forget what prison is whether immigrant or not, which is to get removed from your family and put into cell or cage for your crime. Thus, an illegal immigrant goes to prison for the crime.

The clearly don't get that there are like 17 Latin American countries these kids come from, not just Mexico, and without paperwork we don't know which.

They don't understand most of these kids show up alone anyway.

The clearly don’t understand the foster system continues to lose children and its literally safer to put them in a cage.

Trump says lets build buildings to put them in and house them and then the people scream prison and say no. Thus, a cage is the only option.

They don't understand releasing these children is impossible because there is nowhere to sent them without knowing where they came from...

But... 'Merca.

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Clock is Slowing Down

A short poem about the current broken state of society.

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Alright
We're all crooked, the end
We're all playing the victim refuse to sit down before the screen loud
The webbed spaceship, dead, faceless, anonymous and tasteless posting racist shit
Our thoughts are flung out into the digital crowd
The matrix, no Neo will save us now
Hoping they'll be proud we're pretending we know what we're talking about
How we feel about left or right
The red/blue pill fight stands whether day and night
Ignorance within us shines its dim light
Not quite the bright we had in sight
Machines take over in the middle of our blind plight
The sky is the limit, but we're too scared to take…

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Driverless Country

Short Poem on society’s current confused state.

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Lightning is bright at night when they're frightened. Heightened senses tense tightly, senseless. Defenses up when just about had enough. Brave cowards showered with towers of lies hidden behind flowers meant to deny the fact they want to cry. Be told “It’ll be fine,” but know that’s not true, that’s the true lie. Haunted they’re coasting, no one in control. When the ship tips and flips, capsizes, sinks, no one’ll know where it'll go.

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Stupid Americans

Poetry commenting on the current state of the U.S.

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Alright
I know we all see the crazy
Pretend we don’t
We just sit and hope the whole show stops cold
And goes lost
What cost before we hop in?
What loss before we give in
Forced to behave like the villain
To win and stop blood from pilling?
It won’t change the strange atmosphere this deranged insane clown premiered
This ain’t no tame game
And we have to play to steer clear
And get the fuck out here
Veer for fear can’t be what drives
We have to strive to stay alive
As time goes by old ways..

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Rattle The Cage

Steel bars for tax cuts and cold blood from hot heads
No one knows where the shit is hidden
We just know that it’s headed south where we’re living
They’ve gone flushed away the dreams and given us death and rotten plagues
Trials and tribulations, rise without hesitation
This sedation the medication they’ve given you has your brain hazed into a station tuned in for propaganda campaigns to keep you tame by telling you it is a way it ain’t
Don’t give in, don’t play
Right into their shackles, they want you rattled to engage in a fit of rage
They want to pull the stick out with you still in the cage
Keep your eyes bugged out and ready
They’ll pop up any minute
Stand now before the chance is gone
Stay steady
Before it all goes wrong

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The Oracle is Immoral

This throne holds no hope
It’ll choke on gold ‘till broke
A static manic frantic addicts havoc
Systematically
Tear down the thinking man for he thinks too much
Due rush for too hush on lush lust doesn’t’ do much
Tear down Mona for she half smiles too much
Sooth touch the child in denial stand no trial or handcuffs
Yet birds in the air sing angry despair and the guns fire up at the sky
Shoot first, no questions
Blame the suit when in truth is he who blames who’s guilty in truth
But the brain is confusing and powerful too
And a mirror tells the story we allow for it to
Destroy the structure
Accuse another
The way of the Oracle

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The Dying Art of "Discussion"

 

 

How can it be possible for a person to be so willing to argue their perspective and impose their reasoning on others but be completely unreceptive to Feedback and counter information?

If you’ve never gathered information because you listen to no one while waiting your turn to speak, what are you speaking? There has been no information collected. At that point we can assume your perspective isn’t yours but something you read from a book, magazine or the internet.

Which part of an opinion you read and repeated is yours? Which part did you originate? Or do you sit around repeating other people’s views on things?

What original input do you have? And if none, why not listen to someone else’s to add to your informational bank?

You don’t have to believe the thing to understand why someone else does.

Isn’t knowing why the villain believes they are the hero the only way to defeat the villain? Know your enemy and know thyself, but there is no self and the villain is ignored so no information processing takes place ever… There is just repeating and reciting. Is that a good basis for an argument?

I don’t know, I rely on reason. I find it strange someone would argue something they’ve given no thought to. It’s strange. And why their emotions on it are more of a solid fact from their eyes than the objective logic behind it is weird and probably wrong.

I live in a strange world.

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The United States of 99% Undereducated

Considering human nature, a country which forces its population to pay for advanced education is collectively a country with lower IQ. Only the wealthy can access the expensive information. Intellectual competition exists only within the same financial circles, thus few feel challenged enough to improve. There is nothing to overcome when everyone is intellectually inferior.


In countries where education is free everyone is on the same educational page. They can challenge each other to improve and thus the countries collective IQ is...

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A Way to Fix America

 

Destroy the Politicians

If the new structure agreed to cooperate against the old structure success would be assured.
With the military and police force on board the government could easily be overthrown by the people. Their only defense is the military and the police. Other than that they’re just bankers, politicians and millionaires. But the police and the military are the people and should stand for the people. If they did rebel and took control, responding only to votes decided by the civilians, the politicians would cease to matter. They’re job would vanish and leadership of this type would cease.

Destroy the 1% & The Bankers

Finances only hold value if the people decide they do. Once they don’t the system stops mattering. If the New Structure could design a new currency to replace the current and agree as a collective to use this new exchange method billionaires would suddenly be the poorest people in the world as they’d be the last to think it’s relevant to adopt this currency. Acquiring all things would be filtered through this new system based on the barter system with traits from capitalism. Every possible contribution within communities is ranked in value to the community. It’s awarded to the individual performing the task based on how well the task was performed, whether or not it had to be done in the first place and set to a...

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