[Intro]

It's all about the money, man

More chedder, more cheese[?], more better[?], man

[Hook: Sims]

Market-made murder, martyr my merger

Well I sell a fantastic hell in hand baskets

Margin commercial merking the mass persons

Television terror to broadband effect

Market-made murder, martyr my merger

Well I sell a fantastic hell in hand baskets

Margin commercial merking the mass persons

Television terror to broadband effect

(Episode one)

[Verse 1: Sims]

War every time I turn on the television

We born, then advertised, then beat into submission

Still more billboards in the Minneapple so

Slower we choke cause they lowered the blows

And there's still nowhere to go

And we know, by the burning in our throats

By our furniture and clothes

And by the burdens that we cope with

And a sermon that we know for certain is nonsense, not God's steps

Held hostage, I wake to daily bomb threats

I don't consider that progress

Evolution to revolution but losing head in fed illusions

So instead, my fists are movin'

Bob and weave, knocking down monopolies

Now how come I cannot believe in copping Karl Kani's and Prada jeans?

Well I don't, and I won't

So I throw the remote

At the hegemony box

While you drool and jerk off to celebrity spots

Who knew it was you that was the empty mascot?

Stable, static status

It's sheer madness, the fear tactics they practice

Keep you passive and buyin' what's wrapped inside that clear plastic (clear plastic)

That home gas mask kit

That old, half-mast shit

A rose attacked with that cold laugh track bit

Close my casket, bury me in the worthless

Market-made murder while we burn on the surface

[Hook: Sims]

Market-made murder, martyr my merger

Well I sell a fantastic hell in hand basket

Margin commercial merking the mass persons

Television terror to broadband effect

Market-made murder, martyr my merger

Well I sell a fantastic hell in hand basket

Margin commercial merking the mass persons

Television terror to broadband effect

[Interlude 1]

Hold on, do you mind me breaking in at this point?

Go ahead

There's no doubt that the obvious solution is to go for quick profits

Alright, but I can't just take your word for it

Well, what's the trouble?

The trouble is that you're out of touch with this market

(Episode two)

[Verse 2: Toki Wright]

Market made up of murder in turbulent times

When the country increase the deficit, what do you find?

You start a war in the third world already won

I thought the Earth was the third world close to the Sun

You see now some have their extinction agenda for sums

Where they make you think you're defenseless and working for crumbs

But now, who works the fields? The people

Who bakes the bread? The people

But in the ennd who gets to eat it?

The masters of evil, deception

Creators of weapons of mass

Mass destruction, horror, bad things, terror

Sometimes the enemy's the man in the--

I can see clearer now, the rain is gone

But some have gone about it all wrong

Putting faith in a system corrupted

Then have expectations of justice

No, you can't trust it

Gotta grind the gears 'til the machine is busted and torn

Gotta do more than just talk and perform

Work on what's mine and what's yours and what's ours

And here's a message to those in charge

The bigger you are, the harder you fall

The bigger you are, the harder you fall

[Interlude 2]

May I interrupt here?

Alright

With respect, your report does not cover the market thoroughly

I suspect that we're not being fairly represented ' What's your opinion on the matter?

The market's changed

You've got a point there ' I'm suggesting we commission a market study immediately

That's easy enough

(Episode three)

[Verse 3: Mike Mictlan]

It's the making of a man, mammon mammal

That managed famine of a mass metro retro pop cultureless mass

Anti-Christian, crystal clear, altered alien acts

From Activision glistens Episcopalian facts

It's its own religion, in fact

Aimless atheist alias aching my atrium tracks

'Cause, God damn, I'm a man made of flesh and organics

Three-sixty degrees plus five points around my planet

Do the math, measure the magnitude of my magnets

Circumference of my substance, steady solar solstice stagnant

So most nights I post in an insomnia tossing

While ghosts swell in my shell and dwell for a haunting

Nightmares turn reoccurrin' journeys burnin' subconscious

Flatline and capsize in mental motion nauseous

Cautious, 'cause that paranoia preoccupies precaution

I grew too fond of all the toxins exhaustin' me constant

Deep inside, there are no monsters

Or flying saucers carrying martians into my concepts

There's only the loneliness of martyrs

Growing a hole in my head, escaping the ceremonial carcass

The market made a murder, but murder didn't make the market

Let your life shine if you can penetrate through the darkness

The target is to keep on surviving inside of apartments

Commercialize my worth to fit me inside of their margins

[Hook: Sims]

Market-made murder, martyr my merger

Well I sell a fantastic hell in hand basket

Margin commercial merking the mass persons

Television terror to broadband effect

Market-made murder, martyr my merger

Well I sell a fantastic hell in hand basket

Margin commercial merking the mass persons

Television terror to broadband effect

Fresh