Текст песни: A Report to the Shareholders / Kill Your Masters + перевод

Beware of horses

I mean a horse is a horse of course, but who rides is important

Sitting high with a uniform, barking orders, demanding order

And I’m scared that I talk too much about what I think’s going on

I got a way with this, they might drag me away for this

Put me in a cage for this, I might pay for this

I just say what I want like I’m made for this

But I’m just afraid some days I might be wrong

Maybe that’s why me and Mike get along

Hey, not from the same part of town, but we both hear the same sound coming

Woo! And it sounds like war

Woo! And it breaks our hearts

When I started this band, didn’t have no plans, didn’t see no arc

Just run with the craft, have a couple laughs

Make a buck and dash, yeah

Get a little dap like «Yeah I’m the fucking man!», yeah

Maybe give a little back like, «Here, I do what I can»

It’s all jokes and smoke 'till the truth start schemin'

Can’t contain the disdain for y’all demons

You talk clean and bomb hospitals

So I speak with the foulest mouth possible

And I drink like a Vulcan losing all faith in the logical

I will not be confused for docile

I’m free, motherfuckers, I’m hostile

Choose the lesser of the evil people, and the devil still gon' win

It could all be over tomorrow, kill our masters and start again

But we know we all afraid, so we just simply cry and march again

At the Dem Conven my heart broke apart when I seen them march mommas in

As I rap this verse right now, got tears flowing down my chocolate chin

Told the truth and I’ve been punished for it, must be a masochist 'cause I done

it again

«Ooh, Mike said 'uterus'»

They acting like Mike said, «You a bitch»

To every writer who wrote it, misquoted it

Mike says, «You a bitch, you a bitch, you a bitch»

Add a «nigga» for the black writer that started that sewer shit

I maneuver through manure like a slumdog millionaire

El-P told me, «Fuck them devils, Mike, we gon' be millionaires»

I respond with a heavy «Yeah»

Big bruh says «Fuck that, toughen up

Stay ready, write raw raps, shit rugged rough»

The devil don’t sleep, us either

El spits fire, I spit ether

We the gladiators that oppose all Caesars

Coming soon on a new world tour

Probably play the score for the World War

At the apocalypse, play the encore

Turn around, see El, and I smile

Hell coming, and we got about a mile

Until it’s over I remain hostile

Mere mortals, the Gods coming so miss me with the whoopty-whoop

You take the devil for God, look how he doin' you

I’m Jack Johnson, I beat a slave catcher snaggletooth

I’m Tiger Flowers with a higher power, hallelu'

Life’ll get so bad it feel like God mad at you

But that’s a feeling, baby, ever lose I refuse

I disabuse these foolish fools of they foolish views

I heard the revolution coming, you should spread the news

Garvey mind, Tyson punch, this is bad news

So feel me, follow me

Devil done got on top of me

Bad times got a monopoly

Give up, I did the opposite

Pitch perfect, I did it properly

Owner killed by his property

This life’ll stress you like Orson Welles on the radio

War after war of the world’ll make all your saneness go

And these invaders from Earth’re twerkin' on graves you know

Can’t wait to load up the silos and make your babies glow

It’s so abusive you’ll beg somebody to roofie you

They’ll snatch your hope up and use it like it’s a hula-hoop

And it’s a loop, they talk to you just like their rulers do

These fuckin' fools have forgotten just who been foolin' who

Kill your, kill- kill your kill your, kill-

Kill your, kill- kill- kill your, kill-

Kill your masters

Kill your, kill- kill your kill your, kill-

Kill your, kill- kill- kill your, kill-

Kill your masters (kill your masters!)

Kill your, kill- kill your kill your, kill-

Kill your, kill- kill- kill your, kill-

Kill your masters

Kill your, kill- kill your kill your, kill-

Kill your, kill- kill- kill your, kill-

Kill your masters (kill your masters!)

Killer children of men on the throne, roving with no atonement

Got me feeling like I’m Clive Owen rowing through a future frozen

The flow’s a burning wind, blowing to your coast

Now in cages 'cause we rode the waves of your explosions

Done appealing to our killers, man, to stop the bleedin'

This song’s a dirty bomb for they dirty dealings

Boots on the roof, I’m Charley Mingus dumping through the ceiling

Master P-in' on these lost Europeans thievin'

Shit be grim, and De La born a reaper

Born in the beast and fixin' feast tearin' its features

The world surges, the nation’s nervous

The crowds awaken, they can’t disperse us

We ain’t at your service

Won’t stay sedated

Won’t state our numbers for names and

Remaining faceless

We dignified, they can’t erase us

We ain’t asleep, we rope-a-dope through the flames

Man, the world gonna ride on what’s implied in the name

Run 'em

Kill your, kill- kill your kill your, kill-

Kill your, kill- kill- kill your, kill-

Kill your masters

Kill your, kill- kill your kill your, kill-

Kill your, kill- kill- kill your, kill-

Kill your masters (kill your masters!)

Kill your, kill- kill your kill your, kill-

Kill your, kill- kill- kill your, kill-

Kill your masters

Kill your, kill- kill your kill your, kill-

Kill your, kill- kill- kill your, kill-

Kill your masters (kill your masters!)