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letra de dead wrong (remix) - brodka$t

hook: between the rich and the poor, it’s a spiritual war, see the blood and the gore now what’s it for x2

verse 1: i crusade on beats like damascus, refuse to be ignorant like the m-sses, i know my nation’s plastic, the situation’s drastic but people gone byp-ss it like gastric, gaseous in the brain from fatty acids, didn’t take a trip of acid for me to come to realization, that it’s f-cking d-mnation for this d-mn nation, obama’s nation sells abomination that sh-t is not creation, amerikkka acting on us boy these motherf-ckers staging, process elimination hood gentrification, ladies and gentlemen we need probates not probations, nor that miseducation, i know the white men out there fearing that miscegenation, they want disintegration, material fascination, these fascist people want monopoly and capitalize that’s why they call it capitalism, people just be caught up in the euphemisms i’m just caught up in euphoric herbalism look at all this marxism, i see some marks up in your crew i tell my set to go and targets will get blew, and people loving all this masochism, and do what m-ssa say i bet they gave they money at they motherf-cking m-ss today, still treated in a mastiff way, like these rappers they come up with sandy hooks, even write the books that you reading on your handy nooks, and the mob is deep that’s why you the ones that f-cking shook, it’s a game of chess and you looking like a f-cking rook

hook x4

verse 2: who the f-ck gave the world false hope, i bet it was the preachings from the motherf-cking pope, there they go with that again at the vatican, media blasting blasphemy how can i f-cking cope, they asked him bout g-ys in the church, and he says “who am i to judge?”, most that practice the religion didn’t even f-cking budge, they legalize g-y marriage but won’t legalize my bud, they even opened up the motherf-cking church of satan, 10 commandments that they decimating god they forsaken, human depopulation so all insurance is taken, precipitating rebellion like bacon’s, then the pigs coming through with martial law as if they playing on tekken, f-ck 12 from the a.m. to the noon, remember the t-tans i’m feeling like i’m coach boone, never grew up on a silver spoon got me hustlin’ so i could stack up all my macaroons, it’s all about the c.r.e.a.m. amerikkka’s as fake as it’s dream, inside jobs they always stay with the schemes, i couldn’t carry a vote to washington it’s too many scandals, this a bomb like it’s to moss sent from randle, i’m what these people can’t handle, i’m always in the cut toking that green, more crystals than hairs between know what i mean

- brodkat

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