Church Of The Machine
I be walkin' god like a dog
My narrative fearless
My word war returns to burn
Like baldwin home in pairs
Steel from a furnace
I was born landless
It's tha native son
Born of zapata's guns
Stroll through the shanties
And tha cities remains
Same bodies buried hungry
But with different last names
These vultures rob everything
Leave nothing but chains
Pick a point on tha globe
Yes tha pictures tha same
There's a bank and a church and a myth and a hearse
A mall and a loan and a child dead at birth
There's a window pig parrot
A rebel to tame
A whitehooded judge
And a syringe and a vein
And tha riot be ha rhyme of ha unheard
Calm like a bomb
This ain't subliminal
Feel tha critical mass approach horizon
Ha pulse of tha condemned
Sound off america's demise
Tha ant- myth rhythm rocker shocker
Yes i spit fire
Hope lies in tha smoldering rubble of empires
Back through tha shanties and tha cities remains
Ha same bodie
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