Irs

The IRS callin' your phone, boy, it might be a bill collector The tax man ringin' your phone, girl They're here to extract your nectar The IRS callin' your phone, boy, it might be a bill collector The IRS callin' your phone, boy They're here to extract your nectar I don't give a motherfuckin' goddamn Fuck that motherfucker Uncle Sam He's not my kin, not related to that guy You do the work, but he takin' half of the pie You workin' class, he bend you over and worked your shaft Not makin' enough, you constantly overdraft Don't pull in enough, every month, late on rent You get your check, but it's already spent It's like every fuckin' year they raise the poverty line Up, groceries up, what the fuck, gas is up Again, they gon' blame it on the weather or some stupid shit And they gon' blame it on a barrel of crude price But I swear to God, dude, it's not right That every time I look up, these crooks cook another excuse To cook a book up or crook up And take another cut of your cut and raise your taxes up Fuck The IRS callin' your phone, boy, it might be a bill collector The tax man ringin' your phone, girl They're here to extract your nectar The IRS callin' your phone, boy, it might be a bill collector The IRS callin' your phone, boy They're here to extract your nectar So you don't own the land under your house You only own the property that's sittin' on it Don't own the pipes, but you on the toilets shittin' on it Don't own the air above you, but you breathin' on it God dong'it Yeah, you don't own the airspace above your head Yeah, you don't own the ground where you're buried dead Only own yourself and what you think Tradin' your rights Now you don't own your voice when you speak Which is weird, cause in court, yo, your word is your bond Let me explain what the fuck's goin' on Born into a social game and you didn't write the rules to the shit Not the inceptor, so you're gonna pay a tax for it Cause you're a public entity, property operating in a meat suit Controlled by a name that somebody wrote on a birth certificate That's copywritten by elitist motherfuckers Now you gettin' it? they hit a lick The IRS callin' your phone, boy, it might be a bill collector The tax man ringin' your phone, girl They're here to extract your nectar The IRS callin' your phone, boy, it might be a bill collector The IRS callin' your phone, boy They're here to extract your nectar Cold game, them motherfuckers left Europe Come over here, talkin' about We wanna be free from the kings and queens and feudalism Then set up the same motherfuckin' shop British banking systems, Feudalism Kings and queens and fuckin' serfs and merchants And all kinda taxation shit Then buy slaves from slave traders Some Portuguese motherfuckers Runnin' up and down the coast of Africa Stealin' motherfuckers Bring em' to South Americas, the North Americas Have em' build a motherfuckin' country And all the wealth for 400 plus years, right This shit is built And the got the nerve to turn around and set you free And then tax your ass The fuck! And justify all that bullshit actin' as a corporation We live in a corporatocracy This shit is fuckin' sick It's like perverted as fuck, dude And the fact is, everybody's in on it That's the American way