Rage Against The Machine

This microphone explodes, shattering
the molds
Ya either drop tha hits like de la O or get tha
Fuck off tha commode
Wit tha sure shot, sure ta make tha
Bodies drop
Drop an don't copy yo, don't call this
a co-opt
Terror rains drenchin', quenchin' tha thirst of
Tha power dons
That five sided fist-a-gon
Tha rotten sore on tha face of mother earth gets
bigger
Tha triggers cold empty ya purse
They rally round tha family
With a pocket full of shells