Conspiracy Theory versuri

Versuri Darkroom Familia & Boots Riley – Conspiracy Theory lyrics

(C-Kush)
(The Darkroom Familia, yo)
(Conspiracy)

Comin’ from the land of the hopeless dope fiends and dopeless hope fiends,
where 9-year-old kids know how to blow out smoke rings
Boots from The Coup in the land where the Panthers grew
Next message for the boys in blue:

See, they ain’t got the intestinal tract
to keep they bodies from suckin’ they testicles back
Hopin’ all the EKG lines go flat
Showin’ love to the puddle of blood where they sat

Got a communist plot to keep the federales hot.
So many cops around the block that it’ll wake 2Pac
You got a flake and two rocks and two Gs in a shoebox
They bust in after two knocks
You’re hurdling fences in your socks

Now this is for la gente, keep it caliente
Let’s send our presidente on a one-way trip
to casa permanente, yeah
Yeah, soy comunista like Zapatista, yo

I’m havin’ visions of assassinations
I want every politician in the nation to feel the bullet’s penetration
And fuck Flag Day, Columbus, we never crossed the border, the border crossed us
Gettin’ hit tryna kick up dust, motherfuckers gettin’ bum rushed and their guns bust
Now what the fuck do you wanna do? you can’t handle my crew
Fuck America, man, they been fuckin’ us since 1492
They start to brainwash you in elementary
They’re tryin’ to hide five centuries of penitentiary
They’re forcin’ me and quizzin’ me to learn their white history
What about my history? to me, my ancestry’s a mystery

Conspiracies and misery, that’s all that they’ve given me
Man, all my life I’ve had to play the card that they’re dealin’ me
And I ain’t pledgin’ allegiance to no motherfuckin’ flag
Uncle Sam ain’t givin’ a shit about me, so motherfuck that fag
And these politicians talkin’ shit, they’re never gonna learn
When I see the stars and stripes, flick my Bic and watch it burn

Slavery, penitentiaries, misery,
conspiracy theories
Slavery, penitentiaries, misery,
conspiracy theories

The revolution started back in 1994
La Selva controla, ‘cause they hit the floor
An arms race started by corruption in the US
Sendin’ all the weapons leavin’ Chiapas and the bloody masses
I can’t take it no more
Politicians make it harder for me to breathe
Can’t you see?
Open your eyes wide, it’s true,
and all these propositions keep playin’ me for a fool

The chivas and the trago too,
pacified while a brother from the other side dies
When the bullets fly, you die
Zapatista to the death
It ain’t a racial issue, it’s economics and the rich

‘Cause I see the pain as our weapons are collected
I’m not complainin’, I’m doin’, I’ma solve it and wreck it
We’ll fight until we die, let my blood spill
And for those who oppose, I will kill

Whitey Pete, we’ll send you to the first honky in line
with your bullshit Propositions 187, 209
When you die, say goodbye and I’ll fill up on Top Ramen
White bastard, I’m starvin’,
I think I need to start robbin’ crackers so I can fill my belly
White people are smelly
Your wife was horny, so I plugged it at the deli
I’m the really undercover race sick and quick
before you piss me off and I get shit on my dick
Yeah, life’s a bitch

Five hundred years of oppression,
I need to take out my aggression.
Bust the cap, say your blessin’.
Grip my testicles, just let ‘em hang ‘cause with a bang,
I could make you one inch less of a man
Quit fuckin’ with minorities
Give money to the needy
‘Cause another Pete Wilson proposition’s just a conspiracy theory

That’s all it is, hoe

Slavery, penitentiaries, misery,
conspiracy theories
Slavery, penitentiaries, misery,
conspiracy theories