The Coup

The Coup - 20000 Gun Salute lyrics

Your rating:
[Butthead] Whoa! Uh-heheh-heheh, uh-heheh
 That kicked ASS!
 [Beavis] Yeah yeah heh yeah
 That was fly
 * DJ Pam the Funkstress starts cuttin up "That was fly" *
 Chorus: Boots (repeat 2X)
 20,000 gun salute, get rowdy like you got a substitute
 This slug's for Newt - shut your mouth, don't pollute
 Army of down motherfuckers, shit we tryin to recruit!
 [Boots]
 See now we're talkin systematic, mack mechanics, decomposin
 Chosen, representatives, from the ho's been known to act wit
 pimp theatrics, a tactic necessary
 In fact they wanna have us buyin from the commissary
 This commentary's for my folks under involuntary servitude
 Cause bosses don't be servin you your monetary
 Pervin you like rum'n'dairy pulsin through your capillaries
 Some inherit green, the rest just get our folks to bury
 I'm abolitionary, wishin the judiciary
 say this year for merry merry, free the penitentiary!
 Peoples gon' rumble as long as stomachs grumble
 and crack pipes tumble over asphault that's crumbled
 Hundreds come in bundles and, hop is mixed with funnels
 Cause babies wit shoes too small gon' stumble
 This composition is sedition, opposition to the rulin class
 Wishin they could detonate us hooked to the ignition
 Keep my slacks creased to punch the clock for the beast
 As my rent don't cease, his pockets get obese
 Can't have inner peace without havin a piece
 When the stepped on step up, we let the dragon release
 Chorus
 [Boots]
 Disaster! The filthy rich bastards wanna milk yo' ass
 faster, ask fuh, no salvation comin from the damn pastor
 Old ladies play canasta, under roofs of cracker plaster
 Little kids dive in the trash for discarded Dutchmasters
 Dead potnahs on mural walls
 Homeless kids takin baths up in gas station urinals
 Shit the system can't cure it all
 If everybody had a job then stock value's sure to fall
 Hundred million neck slashes, so these facists
 can make sho' that they check cashes, let's get massive
 Wage struggle as direct classes, on just how we gonna
 overthrow they bitch asses, give whiplashes
 from the force as we make it tight, and ignite
 the flames of takin over daily life, make it a right
 to have food, threads and homestead
 and Pac Bell won't ever cut your phone dead -- we own it!
 But these business that love payin minimum wage
 ain't gon' let you take they shit unless you showin the gauge
 And if you do it by yourself they gon' put you in a cage
 If you in a rage, please meet me on the same page, with a
 Chorus
Get this song at:
bol.com
amazon.com

Copyrights:

Author: ?

Composer: ?

Publisher: Dogday Records

Details:

Released in: 1998

Language: English

Appearing on: Steal This Album (1998)

Share your thoughts

This form is protected by reCAPTCHA and the Google Privacy Policy and Terms of Service apply.

0 Comments found