Wally What - Land of the Gun lyrics

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Wally What - Land of the Gun lyrics

[James Nichols from Bowling for Columbine] Them people, law enforcement, if you want to call them that Were here and they were shaking in their shoes. They were physically Shaking, scared to d**h. Because certain people, said I'm a radical I'm a wild man, I got a gun under every arm, if you say anything I'll shoot you. If the people find out how they've been Ripped off, and enslaved, they will revolt with the blood Running in the sheets Yo, Ticket to ride, the white crime, highway Bring all the guns, the funds will come my way Whether we deliverin' high grade To the people in the pit of the tri-state Or dabble in the hood like light-weight Lock and load in the range with rock the globe Made any aim possible Til the leadbelly lost control In the hold of the paper that fold At one time was related to gold Made many men lose their soul To the price of the dice that roll How can a light so bright make a man so cold? So another man's plans unfold Can you really see the truth til it happens to you Its so severe what the hopeless will do Ain't no pickin' your position to beginning your life Not every man want to stand by his kids and his wife Too many lost kids in the night Hand on heat, grippin it tight Any man want beef could get it right Followed by enough flame to put a permanent end To the learning of men Cla** session, too many the blast the last lesson Often taught like the wars that are often fought As old as mankind Now outta his damn mind Stand on the gunpowder landmine Ready to blow at any second I'm checking for the signs of the end Of all-time, I figure its on time, my last thoughts forming the rhyme Got me running through the streets That reek of the dead, its more food to the well-fed My n***as on welfare, nobody givin up healthcare Nothing but heat, how you gonna tell me it ain't hell here? George Bush having a swell year Swingin' the gat, ready to clap, anything on the map You done seen what they bring to Iraq Now bring it back to the source, land of the physical force Land of the gun, land of the gun, land of the gun, land of the gun! This is the place where cops are rushin the building Paramilitary d**h squads murder your children Empty shell of a man rippin shots in the air Soldiers dying out there, but nobody cares Prepare for the future but make note of the past Or be condemned to live it again and get blast Cla** warfare kept outta the news Replaced by a corporation's political views Cause this is where the guns are manufactured and sold The land that was stolen stripped of all of its gold Old timers on the d**h bed speakin the wisdom Immigrants crucified by conservative Christians Now we all got freedom to die in the street But the difference is more of us die in a week Than they die in a year I made it clear Where I stand when the line is drawn But now the line is gone And n***a anything goes The land where the guns don't let anything grow And what the f** you n***as know about living in hell You not built like me you never lived in a cell You never gambled with your soul f** the ice on your hand, gun in your palm But you got a n***as life in your hand Young man, just remember that slicing a gram Is a bloody game, like throwin mice in a fan My words flow like the rivers thats west of Iran The fertile crescent moon, with the star in the middle I reveal the depth of history's scars when I scribble I gave you the world, and I ain't even charged you a little The martyr is crippled The prophets are dead and buried, but the message is simple And its not written down in holy books as a riddle Now we running through the streets, starvin On that guerilla warfare My people stuck in a guerilla warfare Innocent children screamin in tears You actin like the army ain't put hell here Military industry havin a swell year Swinging a gat while lying in heaven??? Living off a blank check after 9/11 But I'm have the truth brought back to the source Fight for my land with physical force Speak through music, the subliminal course I need a tec and a clip, f** a Jag and a Porsche Land of the gun, land of the gun, land of the gun, land of the gun