Get me out of this world
Get me out of this mess
Get me out of this dress
Get me out of this mindset

Tear gas won't quiet us
Do it like a monk
And light your life on fire
Do it in one moment
Are we gods or technological blobs
Down for the slaughter of our own children

Big as the Hulk but not bulletproof
If a gun was pointed at me
I'd be a raging beast too

It's time to kill a cop
and by I kill I mean love him
for he knows not what he does
even when he does it
and they're gonna see the blood
'cause the TV's all up on it
splashed on the faces of the men who sponsor it
Broadcasted twitterpated apologies will not be accepted
you can keep your eyes and rebuild Ferguson with them

I never wanted to be a human being and this is what I've got
a mouth that talks
two feet that carry me when I walk
over the hot ash of my evacuated city
the other side of death looks pretty
in the dark - quick spark of infinity
but it's a trick of the light to believe that we exist
'cause I've studied my hands enough to know they won't be missed
everywhere the brains shift
just beneath the skulls
everywhere the eyes skip
over the ancient scrolls
and this skin will grow old and mold
and that's only if I'm lucky
and only if I'm lucky will her decomposed hands find new ways to touch me
and only if I'm lucky rebirths and orgasms
fear sits in our protoplasm
and waits for angels to disarm the phantoms
and my soul can't relax because the moon is slanted
and bits of rock are stranded in my head with the American Anthem
it plays on a boombox between a bum and shaman. . .

Is god out to lunch or off the wagon
or overthrown by Lucifer and his companions and clones
all handsomer than me
eyes like steel marbles
tongues like centipedes
fingers like Nosferatu
lungs like dead trees
there's things that have the smell of your own impending death
it sweats through the windows
hides in your lover's breath
camouflaged in the shape of her neck
two-headed and says the shit that you'd expect
pushes through your consciousness from Monday to paycheck
and it hurts
that's why tears show their blank faces
and leave traces of themselves
'til they sprout new life in murky basements
where ghosts shift in rigid chairs filling out applications
I squeeze through
avoid the shiftless faces
the alchemist lab tables
and the weary outpatients
guarding their hearts with flimsy swords
investing their cores in the wrong motivator
meanwhile I walk the surface nervous
trying to turn sun rays to escalators
but these thoughts are old news and Icarus is fish food
somewhere at the salty bottom surrounded by camera crews
spending his last fifty dollars on some heat-resistant glue

Get me out of this world
Get me out of this mess
Get me out this dress
Get me out of this mindset

Peace and love
Is there anymore to say on the subject
Killer Mike cried on stage
Motherfuck Eloquence
Gangsta Rap was never more relevant
I'm the Dirty Harry of New Paris
on a school bus full of kids
A sheriff can still be a lunatic
The joy we get feeling threatened
There's outlaws and lawmen
But I'm a Gentleman Swordsman
I fight with wits and fists
Like Ice Cube's Dad in Friday told me
And by me I mean Craig
Papa's got a brand new bag
The lights come on in my mutha fuckin head
I push through the sadness
of being a White Man
Alone among white men
Might be riots on the streets
but to all a good night man
Might be niggas who kill
Might be cops who get off on it
Our History haunts us
Punk Bully Slaughterers
or Peace Lovin Martians
Snoop Dogg or Snoop Lion
Big Papa Warrior or Michael Wayne Roberts
RIP Michael Brown
we'll smoke some cigarillos in the next town
in our Pig Repellent Nightgowns
Shopliftin' shits and giggles
walkin down the middle of the road
tall and proud
It doesn't matter if you're Pink or Brown
Muslim or Christian
When Death rolls around
you can forget what you knew

Written by Big Papa Warrior