Canadia - MC Frontalot

Listen up!

I’m an American

And I know just what to be scared of

When I hear the word «foreign» I go

Immediately down to the GroceryCo

For my anti-terrorism do-it-yourself

Home kit that they got there up on the shelf

With my stubbornly health, I can’t get exploded;

Haven’t got wealth enough to devote it

In such large measure to picking up bits

So I’d better be prepared on the terrorist tip!

And I do that there in the simplest way:

By carefully considering Canad-i-a

And deeming its shiftiness quotient high

(got a notion why and it’s ocean sized)

And I’m mostly fine with you people, but watch it

Canadia strikes me as unpatriotic

Let me get this straight:

Provinces, not states?

Who’s your president?

(nawww)

See, that’s what I meant!

Post the border guard!

Prepare to bombard!

Countrymen, I say to ya:

Beware Canadia!

How’d we ever get so misconstrued?

I thought I heard ‘em all, but this one’s rude

Listen, dude, don’t ask for favours

Then speak ill of your next door neighbour

From West Coast ravers to Northeast seal hunt, I’m shocked

How am I supposed to feel, Frontalot?

Jeez, keep your guns and Glocks under locks and keys, please!

I’m stopped and freezed, cops are easily bought for cheap

I know not to sleep when I walk the streets of

New York or Los Angeles, crime riddled cities:

A fine kettle of fish where you’ll find little pity

Every piddly bit of validity in me

Exhibits lividity: you’re an idiot indeed!

Consider me out;

your beef doesn’t concern me

I’m cutting dead weight like a weekend at Bernie’s

Yo, Jesse, I think that dude Front’s onto us

Time to let those neutron bombs erupt

Then release Snake Men in the AM

To make people watch reruns of Amen

«Say again?»

No

Halifax-Jupiter-Mexico:

We gotcha cornered like the edge of a room

We got alien heads in a tomb

«Huh?»

Catch my drift like slipstream;

It’s better on the top like whipped cream

Y’all can have Pamela Lee

R&D already cloned her family tree

We got implants for your medulla lobes

All we want to do is rule the globe

But for now, we’ll let you make believe

That we don’t put microchips in maple leaves

You put in the effort to pick up our language

Though I do notice occasional manglage

Of pronunciation.

The letters O U

Come out your mouth oooo.

Don’t know why but they do

Plus somebody told me y’all are rich

Got foliage, rock oil in pitch

But if you don’t have our freedom, you hate it

Gonna put you on the list to get liberated

Yo Front man, come visit!

We’ll go to Tim Hortons, and uh

Check out some beavers

We got… balloons

And blue money

Snow pants

And soup