* DISCLAIMER *
The words expressed here to NOT condone or advocate any violence that should be directed towards any government officials. It is to be strictly considered as allegorical and artistic expression interpreted as social commentary.
* DISCLAIMER *
You’ve got to love the American government. If it deem something or someone to be a threat – it isolates and neutralizes the situation. Our best interests are being protected on the daily by a select few that represent constituents deemed incapable of governing themselves. But what happens when the head of such a noble initiative becomes drunk with power? What happens when checks and balances bounce from internal corruption? What authority do we have to correct it?
Power to the people – this is essentially what early American colonists separated from Britain for. This is what was at the roots of why Protestants branched away from Catholicism… and THIS is what we have to reclaim today.
If we are the ones who generate the income that drives this economy, then how is it that we aren’t allowed to navigate it when we see the vehicle’s being driven with reckless abandon? This nation would be nothing without it’s people, but fear and apathy have all but deadened and effectively ‘neutralized’ this basic concept. In order to grasp such an inherent philosophy, sometimes we need to be jolted into taking hold of it.
Had I written this after seeing V for Vendetta, I might have been able to say that the movie influenced me – but this words run deeper than that. It’s high time we suited up. It only takes one shot to change the course of history… and we’ve been on the wrong side of the scope far too many times.
“Shots Fired: A Militant’s Initiative”
“One in the Hand’s Worth Shootin’ at Bush”
‘…Terrorists with etiquette who fought and killed their president,
Their capacity for evil so evident and prevalent…’
– Beautiful Struggle, Going Hard
For a land with such a history of violence
Aimed at civic tendencies to silence,
Why haven’t bullets been sent vividly flyin’
towards the head of state?!!
He deserves to be snuffed –
who’s got the nut sack
To take him out to pasture in
a dirt nap rough patch?…
He’s proven himself worthy to be bucked at –
I’m ready to see bills with this dead prez’s face.
Not that he’s done anything to be valorized –
I just want his deadness glamorized.
Damn his lies – put ‘em in a coffin
with his lame retorts.
Since he insists on such stiff-lipped lying,
Let him do it in a box
where he can refine his pining…
Let him die trying – since gettin’ rich
is his favorite sport.
That goal’s from his father’s stint –
he’s inherited a message
That bears a merit-less essence.
He blatantly waves this surrogate vestige
as his stars and stripes.
With such arrogant salience invested,
It’s easy to see the real terrorist presence…
It’s our American president –
he’s given us cause to snipe.
Someone oughtta strike
for the jobs that were lost.
Let’s stop skeetin’ around the bush –
who’s gonna bus’ a shot at this fraud?!!
Texans understand martial law –
they shot Kennedy under it.
So who’s gonna do it –
who’s gonna test arms
Against the Presi-don’s Teflon?!!…
He’s already got some red on –
let the tie dye hide the splatter pattern
when the candidate’s memory sullies it.
That’s candid liberty –
I wanna see headshots of pink mist.
If that makes me an extremist, so be it!
I’m a Pink Panther relinquished –
a supreme linguist with literal clips to load.
Besides, this nigga’s already brain dead –
So a trigger might as well have the same said
As someone rains lead aimed
at his head ‘til his pitiful temple explodes.
Since he wants a monarchy so bad it seems,
Let’s let a marksmen mark his mockery with king magazines.
That’s something Dick would be glad to see –
I see a stroke comin’ on!
His dead precedence deserves a 21 gun salute.
So let the lead-resinous resonance tumble through…
Isn’t anyone gonna shoot?!! –
who’s got the scope and muzzle drawn?!!
With such atrocious acts against
the dawn of man’s kindness,
How come no one’s approached the madness
or drawn a line to blindside him?
His heinous highness aligns him sighted –
it’s a righteous and serious hit.
But as much as Bush is a
minstrel ranger on a ranch farm,
He’s like that monthly
menstrual stranger with a tampon…
He’s in no visible danger of being tagged, y’all –
this slack jaw’s not bleeding… period.
COME ON!!! – who’s gonna send him
into early retirement?
I thought everyone was sick and tired of him?
Who’s gonna lit’rally fire him –
who’s gonna hire some firemen to douse his ego?!!
Who’s gonna show some initiative?
Your pension is his – step to the plate
and pinch hit this gimp…
He oughtta be pistol-whipped –
who’s gonna clip the wings of this proud eagle?!!
Doesn’t he have the
wrong group pissed at him now –
isn’t GOP ready to cap their capo?!!
They tolerated this goof –
as long as he listened,
they retracted their ammo.
Their contract’s a preamble –
every politician knows the rules.
Ask Black activists,
civil rights advocates and Whittington –
Warning shots are NOT what
they avidly give to men…
They’ve got accurate triggermen
with a tolerance that’s low and cruel.
He’s a heated and debated
society hazard like chain-smokin’.
His inebriated sobriety’s
been plastered by vain emotions.
That’s why Cheney should smoke him –
absolute power corrupts absolutely,
but there’s a greater irony.
Since Quayle was Bush’s deuce leader,
He oughtta be shot like
quails in bushes with true leisure…
Like Brutus and Caesar, brute seizures
usually peak when tyrants lead.
Besides, we can’t depend on Dems to fend –
they’re too used to the shoe’s other foot.
They’ve always been on the wrong side of the lens
when shooting’s underfoot.
Besides, they’re too busy shooting their other foot
as they bungle the government.
So while bigger men have been killed for less,
This ignorant has-been bills wars with debt…
My quill’s a mortal threat –
it was built to funnel slugs at him.
To assassinate this @ss’s asinine character,
I’ve got an assassin’s .9
with a pad of rhymes to carry words.
My magnum mind’s the carrier –
it’s my holster when I’m shootin’ off at the mouth.
I’m achin’ to cause some vegetative bedlam
With the blatant resolve of premeditated redrum…
I’ve got chambers revolved to redecorate his head hung –
I’m doin’ it NOW.
To vaccinate his magistrate’s plague,
I’m ready to activate a plat’num plated gauge.
Let’s eradicate his claims –
I’m through with his propaganda.
Who’s with me? –
cop a handgun and pump lead through him.
Who’s against me? –
properly stand up, take some lumps and head wounds…
I’m beggin’ to use my tools to shoot holes through
and topple his mantra.
I’m taking the pen out of grenade bombs
To spray lead from itchy napalms.
I’m strictly AWOL –
I’m ready to assault and pepper his smug face.
So Bush, since bullets and missiles have missed you,
I’m sending pit bulls to eviscerate and sic you…
I’m the smartest pistol to whip you –
since I know how your kind treasures gunplay.
‘…You know who killing it? – niggas saying they militant.
The only blood in the street is when the government’s spilling it…’
– Quality, Gun Music
© Reggie Legend 2006
Steel Waters, Inc.