Song | 20,000 Gun Salute |
Artist | The Coup |
Album | Steal This Album |
Download | Image LRC TXT |
作词 : Riley | |
* beavis and butthead sample * | |
[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 |
zuo ci : Riley | |
beavis and butthead sample | |
butthead whoa! uhhehehheheh, uhheheh | |
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 |
zuò cí : Riley | |
beavis and butthead sample | |
butthead whoa! uhhehehheheh, uhheheh | |
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 |