Sheep - The Human Animal

I’m pulp fiction, vulture kings pawns and pigeons

The quickest in this shit kicking a funky ass composition

No competition, we measure dicks by the caliber

Cannabis by the brick and enemies by their stamina

We out of land but see the family well fed

A weatherman running wit ammonia and lemonheads

A known provoker, chain smoke clit stroker

Lower city dope seller to the stock brokers

Hold your breath I set fires in every city now

State town heavily shelled we underground like

Hell’s elevators, sky scraping the rain black

Metal jaguar, city syndicated rap

Instrumental combat, we burn at full contact

Direct action, a fraction ain’t down but we gon' ration

Oil and food hidden with weapons in stash houses

A safe haven blacked out up in the mountains

The sheep are assets, but they need access

Why you think they’re paying Facebook them fat checks

$ 580 for MySpace, they’re enterprising

FBI on my line and profiling

Some days I wonder what the weather’s like underground

Envision cities that I once knew with bombs all around

Explosions in their offices and government buildings

Notes left at the scene, condemning their killings

Instilling fear in their eyes which they hide behind masks

As the pigs attack the innocent with guns and gas

Corporate windows smashed, molotovs torch cruisers

We fin a turn the capital into a scene from Fallujah

Pacifism spells privilege, I know what we’re facing

Rather be on the run than at home staying patient

I can’t fucking take it, this five year holocaust

Dreams of homemade bombs and aiming the sawed off

Cause this war will be ended only when we choose to end it

Peaceful protests are meaningless, let’s stop pretending

Break free from false conceptions, we’ll do more good than harm

Come together little weathermen, take up arms

The sheep are assets, but they need access

Why you think they’re paying Facebook them fat checks

$ 580 for MySpace, they’re enterprising

FBI on my line and profiling

I free the market and fuck it just like a virgin

Our brain dead but our bodies keep working

A bed of dirt underground in nests

Where mothers cry with their child duct taped to their chest

Selling recipes, whatever you want I got

Exotic animals and different types herbicidal crops

I got yellow fever, diseased rodents, and plagues

That I feed to wolves before I let them loose out the cage

See I never hesitate or hold my tongue

Or pay taxes to manufacture bombs and guns

When in the long run, they gon' be used on me

Already being watched by these CCTVs

Hidden cameras in the lamppost watch the street

Web cams in the bedroom to watch you sleep

Satellites in the sky, third eye of the state

Sophisticated search patterns and behavioral traits

The sheep are assets, but they need access

Why you think they’re paying Facebook them fat checks

$ 580 for MySpace, they’re enterprising

FBI on my line and profiling