[Intro: Open Mike Eagle]

Yo!

Hey, yo!

One, two

Wha—what?

Hey, I'm talkin' to you!

I’m tryin' to get—

Yo, I'm tryin' to get your attention, yeah

[Verse 1: Open Mike Eagle]

I'm stretched out like the ropes on a chuck wagon

Young storyteller flying on luck dragons

I ain't tough-acting, but it’s tough, acting

It’s hard to read through the lines with enough passion

I come from BBoy fashion and bus passes

I look around all confused, what the fuck happened?

The moons hollow it's a real boondoggle

Selling old kombucha in a new bottle

I draw circles, dressed in all purple

Bō staff like a four-foot-tall turtle

I use it to pole vault over tall hurdles

In '95 I first met my aunt Mirtle

As a teenager in Seattle's Green Acres

My memories move like a screensaver

My brain's dark and my heart's in a spin cycle

I'm ready to pop like bullets within rifles

I wrote a spiritual manual and biz Bible

Buy in bulk twelve tees and ten vinyls

And that—that's an order!

Those are marching orders

You got to march t—march to do that!

[Verse 2: Remi Rough]

Where's my nanotech pilots, vermillion violets

With wind chimes hanging on the end of your eyelids

Making time to enjoy the silence

Endorse the violence, listen to Primus

Fantasy football footfall to hybrids

Driving five hours but I'm undecided

My destination hadron collided

So divided and narrowly sighted

Now we’re carbon heavy maybe it's time to cycle

And here I am between two blokes named Michael

We may have lost the battle but we won the title

Archetypal and I love all my rivals

In arrivals at Gatwick airport

With too many bags and I'm travelling barefoot

Dealing with these idiots at every square foot

Death tolls roll in the billions output

Cheap imitations and designations

Relegate, devastate I hate innovations

Wasted time on dodgy annotations

And now it's even too late for action stations

Gentrification, forced inflation

Dishing out free sex therapy consultations

Aviation can be such a bitch

Let's all rise up and eat the rich!

Eat the rich

[Verse 3: Mike Ladd]

We always waxing opinion paper

Dead Can Rap is opinionated

Obit in op-ed exasperated

No feet to the facts but they syncopated

Put it on tracks but we don’t debate it

Slick with the rhetoric

Jive diabetic

Intellect synthetic

The tweet pathetic

Twitter loads, slower than my porn site

So I don’t tweet but I freak right

Like a white house leak, never airtight

Like Bluetooth Beats, never pair right

The rich out for death

'Cause the world is Fortnite

Dim the porch light

Strike at waist height

Like Adidas vs Nike

This ain't a fair fight

Culture war like so many before

Revolution raw and loveless

But this one here, mostly bloodless

Historically it's been far more reckless

Check Robespierre and Mao in comparison

The right's reaction embarrassing

They overreact like we the latter ones

Gives them an excuse to splatter some

They got one tactic: fear and guns

Our strategy's elastic

Three-four to four-four

Or poly-time five-seven we rise

Clips on two if we got some

'Cause we got 'em on the run

For one reason

'Cause we always on the one, baby

Always on the one