This is a time of monsters coming for what they want
Never before chaos and havoc in one prompt
Powers that got concentrated in some gronks
They use it to cold crush, competitors curb stomped ya what?
Cosa Nostra Dons draining the swamp
Draining a dying planet they sold in a great con
Zero to 0.1 per centers they’ve got funds
As big as the bottom 90%ers combined sums yuh
Gone for a long lunch, insiders they get the jump
No need for a silver spoon, they’re born to become a cunt
Born to be commandant, above you holding a gun
You never think you’re the prey til you find yourself in the hunt
Our weapons have got blunt our methods to confront
Protesting to get approved by a newly installed judge ya what?
Who cares, we’ve got convenience, what’s at the fingertips of my obedience
I’ve got nothing to hide, whoever’s screening this
What do you mean a list? There must be some mistake
I beg for lenience, McCarthy Grievances, deviants, communists
One minute it’s calm then it’s ominous
AI says you’re treasonous the snitches were anonymous
So come out with the officers, the quadcopters opposite
Complaints from where the commerce is
Way out of reach of commoners
Plunderers, pacify the populace, pointing to the joblessness and
Pin the blame on foreigners
Kings of modern Gomorrah
Depravity and dishonour is bottomless
Demonic, despotic they got it in their head they’re Romulus
Too many Guy Sebastians, not enough of Kristoffersons
Everything is escapism disappeared in an Oculus what!
You think they see you other than bodies to put in front of the bombs
And the guns of enemies, enemies of the government
Take you back to Muhammad Ali when said he ain’t got a quarrel
With none of the Vietcong in the jungle
What if the state is corrupt, where do you stand in the struggle?
What if the cataclysm that’s coming is cos you don’t want to cause any trouble?
Keep your head down and keep pretending
You’re disconnected from everything that
This will never affect your friends
Yeh peace and love, free the doves
Thermal imaging coming from drones above
Who could make this up, Isaac Asimov?
No shortage of man who’ll take you close to God
