[Intro]
It's all about the money, man
More chedder, more cheese[?], more better[?], man
[Hook: Sims]
Market-made murder ' Martyr my merge
I sell a fantastic hell in handbaskets
Market commercial merc in a mask person
Television tearing up poor baby[?] fresh
Market-made murder ' Martyr my merge
And I sell a fantastic hell in handbaskets
Market commercial merc in a mask person
Television tearing up poor baby[?] fresh
(Episode one)
[Verse 1: Sims]
War every time I turn on the television
Reborn, then advertised, then beat into submission
Still more billboards in the Minneapol so
So [?] we choke cause they lower the blows, and there's still nowhere to go
And we know, by the burning in our throats
By our furniture and clothes, and by the burdens that we cope with
In a sermon that we know for certain is nonsense
Not God's steps held hostage
I wake to daily bomb threats
I don't consider that progress
Evolution to revolution ' Been losing head
And fed illusions ' So instead, my fists are movin'
Bob and weave, knocking down monopolies
Now how come I cannot believe in [?] and Prada jeans
Well I don't, and I won't, so I throw the remote
At the hegemony box while you drool and jerk off
To celebrity spots ' Who knew it was you
That was the empty mascot?
Stable, static status
The sheer madness ' The fear tactics they practice
Keep you passive and mild[?], wrapped[?] inside that clear plastic
That home gas mask kit ' That old, half-mast shit
Arose a tack wit ' That cold I've trapped in[?]
Close my casket ' Bury me in the worthless
Market-made murder while we burn on the surface
[Hook: Sims]
Market-made murder ' Martyr my merge
I sell a fantastic hell in handbaskets
Market commercial merc in a mask person
Television tearing up poor baby[?] fresh
Market-made murder ' Martyr my merge
And I sell a fantastic hell in handbaskets
Market commercial merc in a mask person
Television tearing up poor baby[?] fresh
[Interlude 1]
Hold on, do you mind me breaking in at this point?
Go ahead
There's no doubt that the obvious solution is to go for quick profits
Alright, but I can't just take your word for it
Well, what's the trouble?
The trouble is that you're out of touch with this market
(Episode two)
[Verse 2: Toki Wright]
Market made up of murder in turbulent times
When the country increases the deficit, what do you find?
You start a war in the third world ' Already won
I thought the Earth was the third world close to the Sun
You see now some have the extinction agenda[?] for sums
Well, they'll make you think you're defenseless and working for crumbs
But now, who works the fields? The people
Who baked the bread? The people
The any[?], and then who gets to eat it?
The masters of evil, deception
Creators of weapons of mass, mass destruction
Horror, bad things, terror
Sometimes the enemy's the man in the--
I can see clearer now ' The rain has gone
But some have gone about it all wrong
Putting faith in a system corrupted
And half-expectations of justice
No, you can't trust it
Gotta grind the gears through the machine that's busted
It's worn ' Gotta do more than just talk and perform
Work on what's mine and what's yours and what's ours
And here's a message to those who're tall[?]
The bigger you are, the harder you fall
The bigger you are, the harder you fall
[Interlude 2]
May I interrupt here?
Alright
With respect, your report does not cover the market thoroughly
I suspect that we're not being fairly represented ' What's your opinion on the matter?
The market's changed
You've got a point there ' I'm suggesting we commission a market study immediately
That's easy enough
(Episode three)
[Verse 3: Mike Mictlan]
It's the making of a man, ma'am, and mammal that manage ' Rammin'[?]
Over mass ' Metro ' Metro pop, the culturalist mass
Anti-Christian ' Crystal clear ' Altered alien activate[?]
Active vision in the school[?] ' Episcopalian facts
It's its own religion, in fact
In the safety, insanely forsaking[?] my atrium tracks
But God damned ' I'm a man made of flesh and organics
Three-sixty degrees plus five points around my planet
Do the math, measure the magnitude of my magnets
Circumference of my substance ' Steady soul it goes so[?] stagnant
So most nights I'm posted in a zombie and tossing
While ghosts swell in my shell and dwell for a haunting
Nightmares turn reoccurring ' Journeys burning subconscious
Flat line and capsize in a mental motion, all cautious
Cause that paranoia preoccupies precaution
I grew too far and the ball[?] they tossed is exhausted because
Deep inside, there are no monsters
Or flying saucers carrying martians into my concerts
There's only the loneliness of martyrs
Growing a hole in my head, escaping the ceremonial carcass
The market made a murder, but murder didn't make the market
Let your life shine if you can penetrate through the darkness
The target is to keep on surviving inside of apartments
Commercialize my worth to fit me inside of their margins
[Hook: Sims]
Market-made murder ' Martyr my merge
I sell a fantastic hell in handbaskets
Market commercial merc in a mask person
Television tearing up poor baby[?] fresh
Market-made murder ' Martyr my merge
And I sell a fantastic hell in handbaskets
Market commercial merc in a mask person
Television tearing up poor baby[?] fresh
