Politics is a swamp where the deputies freeze,

While the voters are fools, brought down to their knees.

I see the old-timers digging through trash for a dime,

While the leaders are busy committing the crime.

They’re stuffing their wallets and building their estates,

Stirring up drama and fueling the hates.

Just thugs in a suit who climbed into power,

I stayed home from the polls in the final hour.

I see the new Hitlers in the seats that they hold,

I see through the motives and the lies that they’ve sold.

Think you can buy me with a campaign pitch?

Your thoughts are all rotten, you’re looking to get rich.

I see the lust for the crown in your head,

I’m a original, street-born and bred.

I’m young and I’m free, I don’t bow, I don’t bend,

Middle finger held high to the very last end.

Hand over my head, let the message be known:

This is our politics—the one that we own.

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