Difference between revisions of "Zearle:Prophets of Profit"

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The Prophets of Profit
The Prophets of Profit

Revision as of 01:42, 28 January 2006

Prophets of Profit
Artist: Zearle
Album: Class War

Wealthy Vampires, with the cold hand of the executioner

Uhm, working class (The Prophets of Profit)
We was here in the beginning, outlast their ass
We toil with the Earth, service industry
Held by Capital not by force, With you they may succeed
The rich or poor, we can all agree
But it's those rich dogs who'll never see and can never be
A class of subordinates, the burden, the abuse, the misuse
The poor, the word in French to describe it
To vent it, was Proletariat, your divided
You see your own future, we carry it
Shitty conditions, in the end We survive it
We're on a mission and it's stronger than the sex drive (The Prophets of Profit)
Everyday I cross my fingers and stocks take a nose dive
The first three hours of my eight hour day, I made my way
The other five is how you made my pay,
Extracting my labor every fucking day
Just give me the cream from my milk
From the label we made, strand by strand like silk
On pay day, your hands over my hand
Looks like I'm built, You can say it anyway
we stand at the dam, with fingers through a ham
Watching each others back like fam-ily
Old habits linger like pollution, left-wing babbles (The Prophets of Profit)
With no joint resolution, my eyes on the prize
Permanent revolution, which doesn't mean have to fight forever
Just to stop the system, poised to make the world better
I'm sending out six billion emails and letters

Mothers, half-naked
Infants, clutching their necks
Running frantically
Tripping over the bodies of their son
Heat and action
Swinging the ?
Spitting blood and mud and screaming
Land and liberty

The Bush Y-Z, these cats controlling the means of production from me
Ninety-nine percent of these rats think they rich, see?
Just 'cause you got six slices, don't mean you baked the pie
Although I hate them, the cat with the biggest slice don't gots to die
It's the bakers that got us living on the wake of this economic tidal wave
Laws and media forcing us to behave
Controlled by primitive brains, chase our dreams in the pre-dug graves
We need to change, this class structure needs to be re-arranged
We can crush the rich in a day, our purpose is to fear, (The Prophets of Profit)
With nothing to fear and our faces are cold sneer
We have come for the billionaires
Nike, ?, General Food, Ford, chasing Gates, Oil Bearers, Rich Haters, Currency speculators
Hong-Kong kingpins, ?, Russian Mob, Triad, Intel, Dell, ? and Cisco
promised to end Third-World debt, Crush the I-M-F
The W-T-O, must go, Shell gots to be living in hell
Mitsubishi, Napalm, Hitachi and V-P, every country got its evil seed
Kids want to be rich, petty Bush Y-Z
A class of petty parasites is all I can see
Each day, sucking my labour from you and me
From these ancient shackles, we want to be free
My neck-hairs hackle, we treated like beasts
With no hams to eat, I sit at the feast
I'm a Dwarf with no genitals, (The Prophets of Profit)
trying to get a piece, no justice, no piece, no justice, no piece

The Prophets of Profit, The Prophets of Profit
Extending the scourge of Columbus and Stalin
The freedom to buy things you could never afford
The freedom for Indians to buy corn that once flourished overgrown in their backyard
The freedom to die of curable disease
The freedom to watch your children’s stomachs swell and burst

(The Prophets of Profit)
Revolution, is the name of the solution
It's when we want ?
Evolution, while the rich balance and protect it
We're a fat man sitting on the see-saw, dialectics, forced change
The picture within the frame, handing out hymns to break these shackles of shame
Making a list of the names of those who kept us this way
Like a storm we surge, united by justice and not by petty urge
You can trust in us because we have the courage and inspiration
To balance the scales for a thousand years
Rapping, it's like whenever we bake a cake, it's taken (The Prophets of Profit)
I was humble in the slumber, but now I've waken
At the sound of a billion feet of the rich are shaking
We got them quaking in their boots
With justice willing, we'll make it in this forsaken pursuit
Rate, taking and ?
Another metaphor, a trail of tear to freedom, we stay on route
My story of the war is a graphic tale
My hunt for equality is like Jonas for the white whale
Why back me when you want to fail?
I blow down your sails with my hurricane gale
We climb consequence like a chain-linked fence
Painting my ? for rent
One, two, three, ready, set, vent
Get between me and the people get slaughtered (The Prophets of Profit)
Like these people trying to get back to water

Enough! No! I will see my own blood flow, before you take my land, or my liberties

The Prophets of Profit