Run The Jewels, Zack de la Rocha - A Report to the Shareholders / Kill Your Masters lyrics

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 spit's 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, 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' it's 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)