The Gangsters feed their Statists

And the gangsters
that run
the streets
praise
the group thinkers
that run the top
all the scumbags
everywhere
get the very young
to grow
or cut
their hair
do as your told
and do as your told
and be very dumb
til
you're
very old
like a robot
praise the statists
they feed you welfare
and do as you're told
and don't stare
And the gangs wear
Nike shoes
and they worshop
some basketball gurus
they listen to templet beats
and they scream their pain
to it
and they know
the very young
will always be there
'cause they're
very dumb
and they will never live the game
they'l always avoid pain
they'll run from everything
and smoke weed
until
they bang
some new
used up whore
and they need and want some more
and they'll seldom
to never pray
and no
not because they're insane
or gay
they simply feed their statists
at the top
those who bring them pain
and circulate the misery
and here it comes
again
the gangsters
and their statists
socialist utopiests
they smear
and they lash out
they'll ever curse their
mother
or they're
brother
doesn't matter
just so long
as they're on the wrong side
the other side
the
those who lied
a suicide
existence
til the end
the gangsters
and the group-thinkers
they bend
they rarely walk alone
too busy
threatening to beat up
with baseball bat
and dixie cup
they hate the stallion
who runs alone
who thinks for one
who dreams for himself
so they take his thoughts
and ideas
for they
have none
of their own
yes,..they seek out the very young
then they tell you there is no God or Heaven or hell
yes
they somehow
ring your bell
and you believe them
cause you fear
they'll call you some big college word
or rumor that yer
queer
you obey them
and you smoke their dope
and you choke
on their false prayers
and poems
and then you
wake up
one morning
in their ruins
and then
you write about it
and you fright about it
but nothing scares you
not even
Satan
himself
you feed the unionists
and Hollywood bigs
the athiests
and the vague
their
money
they earn from you
and the gangster
you
do