Take A Penny - Exposition

Hey, you finally made it

Congratulations brother

Welcome to the Capitol (Hey)

Where the facts are skewed

(I thought Saddam had weapons)

Oh shut up, nobody’s asking you

Don’t trust your neighbor

He’s plotting your ened

See now, the private sector is your only friend (Oh)

Cause Arab men are dangerous so we are here to protect you

But if you stop consuming they will never respect you

Don’t worry 'bout them you just buy, buy, buy

You’ll never be rich if you don’t try, try, try

You’re living in the land of the millionaire fool

See if it happened to him, shit it can happen to you

Just buy the brochure, follow the rules

And do exactly what your bosses tell you to do (yeah)

You’ll observe all the splendor that you’re living

With a dog and a wife and 2.5 children

We pump you full of fear and eliminate the middlemen

So run along sheep and be a good little citizen

It’s in the magazines it’s on the TV

They try to sell us all a bunch of shit we don’t need

Strap on your sneakers get ready to stampede

We all fall down for that capital greed

I own the magazines I own the TV

And I’m the one that profits off the shit you don’t need

Strap on your sneakers get ready to stampede

You all fall down to supply my greed

Welcome to the grand expansion of the Reich

Where the madness you get is not the peace that you like

We fed the masses marmalade

And that’s exactly what they took (how's that taste?)

Had 'em lookin' for Jesus and led 'em straight to George Bush

Buddy, don’t you see it doesn’t matter who’s the president (why)

Captains of industry is the constituency the represent (Oh no)

So don’t forget I run this motherfucker

Big business with the mind of Big Brother

I own the magazines I own the TVs and I own the radio BBC

Cause it’s a war of information and guess who’s winnin' it (me)

Man even if I lose that I own the ammunition kid (sucka)

So protest, and sing your rebel music

It doesn’t matter cause you ain’t gonna do shit

Plotting rebellion is an act of futility

Cause nothing that you punk bitches do is ever killing me

It’s in the magazines it’s on the TV

They try to sell us all a bunch of shit we don’t need

Strap on your sneakers get ready to stampede

We’re all falling down for that capital greed

I own the magazines I own the TV

And I’m the one that profits off the shit you don’t need

Strap on your Nikes get ready to stampede

You climb over each other to supply my greed

You murder one another to supply my greed

You’d probably rob your own mother

And it’s fine by me