Lyrics:
guys
Talking about how young black guys are targeted
Targeted by who? America
You see one in every hundred Americans are locked up
One in every nine
All you, do is defend that lady when I call you, yeah
I'm sorry Ms. Jackson (oh), I am for real
Never meant to make your daughter cry
I apologize
All-American
I love my mama I love apple pie
I ain't no Commie I'm an All-American
Gonna live it up until I die
Voted by my classmates most likely to succeed
Art
Cause he's all American
Son of the Southland and the Red, White, and Blue
Yes he's all American
He ain't no different than me and you
Well he
the American working population
Hate the nine-to-five day-in day-out
When we'd rather be supporting ourselves
By being paid to perfect the pasttimes
That we
F-15’s scream on by
While me and my brother and sister would play outside
Shopping at the commissary, dancing at the military ball
Yeah we did it all
words, but we all can get a sentence//
Am I anti-American because I want us to improve?
Until we as revered as the art up in the Louvre?
While you
rose up for their dignity
Demanding and sacrificing by any means necessary
To bravely reject our static condition
To continue the pursuit with equal
people, Brown people
Native American, Indigenous people
Cause we're all saved by the blood, but don't label me as a thug
For the record, I got love for
The answer has always been art
This hidden messages of all time
Were made by those who rhyme their spells
The hidden messages are in art that's on your walls
mistake. I am exhausted. You know, it's great, my daughter, she's six now, she's an asshole and I had I had no idea.
I had to spend all winter break with
And then, the Mormons danced with ewoks
And were greeted by Jesus!
Welcome Mormons!
Now, let's all have as many babies as we can
And make big, Mormon
window
Now see, pull up to say, y'all be amazed me
Tony Starks, spaceship, ran by a daughter's cellar
Only man out, walked through hell
us workers who sweat, spit and swear
The minds of our daughters are poisoned by you
With your communistic politics and them negro blues
Well I'm gonna
Goodwill loves me Macklemore than you
I've got flat screen TVs, with skate videos on repeat
All the latest CDs, mp3s, and Beats by Dre
Thank you very
we all love him
Yesterday I got a call like from my dog like 101
Said they killed his only son because of insufficient funds
He was sobbin', he was
English and Italian it
Tells the tale of a rich American woman
(played in Daniel Evans’s new
Production by soprano Renée
Fleming) who travels to Florence in
to rooftop
With those engines on the wind
Where we sang
The songs of our fathers
Sha la la, ooh la la la
And all the prayers of our mothers
Dutiful daughters
autograph)
(Wow, I love you, I have all your albums, it's Mr. Nigga, I love him)
They stay on nigga patrol on American roads
And when you travel abroad,
around
Told myself that after y'all moved that I'd be a fuckin' fool
To be livin' by the street rules
Fuck police tattoos, that happens when you ditch
wreckage
That I've come to love so well
Yes, color me stunned and dazzled
By all the red white and blue flashing lights
In the American intersection
Opposites reject
Under the rainbowflag
I'm indoctrinating trash
I'm a propagating lapse (fuck you!)
Nothing new to me
Heard it all before
Further more
It's
daughter I love you.
We're holding on barely so by the pain we know
My faith is lost my soul is sore and I wish to live no more.
My love and light keep
long
Native Americans
This was their land and you said it was yours
Shackled the Africans
Brought em by ships and then hung em like dogs
Asians
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