

Prompt / Lyrics
You march for justice, fists in the air ICE rolls up, they don't care Clouds of gas make your eyes burn red, You paid for every can they shoot and spread From your check to their stockpile stash, Chokin' on freedom, feel the backlash You paid for the gas you're chokin' on, Pepper ball splatters, the sting is strong Flash-bang booms that rattle your brain Tax dollars rainin' down the pain The pepperball shot in the Pastor's face For praying and asking for Grace You funded the fight that's beatin' you down! Pepper balls fly, 71 mil in the pot, Hundreds of thousands, connect the dot Check your receipt, did you get what you sought? That’s premium mist that your overtime bought No refunds, no returns, just a lung full of "thanks," For keeping the propellant in all of their tanks. You're a Platinum Member of the "Hit the Floor" club, Sponsored by your local tax-paying hub Flash bombs burst on your block tonight, Protester, payer, one and the same While you're yelling "Shame! Shame! Shame!" loud and clear, You're funding Donald Trump's war game right here Trump's training ground, his own damn words, You're paying to be their target practice, absurd! That five-buck deduction from your Friday night pay? It didn't fix the pothole or the bridge in decay It didn't feed a kid or fix a school roof, It’s lodged in your ribcage—there’s your physical proof It’s a bitter cold harvest from the seeds that you sowed, A "Service Denied" sign on a taxpayer's road You paid for the gas you're chokin' on, Pepper ball splatters, the sting is strong Flash-bang booms that rattle your brain, Tax dollars rainin' down the pain You bought the munitions, now feel the blast, Rise up, demand it stops at last! Look at the sheen on that tactical vest, Your property taxes gave 'em the best. High-definition optics to track where you run, You bought the lens, now you’re staring down the gun. All that gas unleashed on Americans' school ground grass, The men in gear that came in mass, Throwing children down on their ass. Isn't it sleek? Isn't it grand? The finest oppression that your cash can command Seventy-one million, your hard-earned cash, Buys the tear gas crash, the pepper ball smash. From Quantico crates to Chicago streets, Your taxes turn protests to retreats Trump's ICE army, geared to the teeth, You paid for the pain underneath. Breathin' in your dividends, it’s a blue-chip haze, You're the CEO of your own misery phase. The pepper ball bruise on your chest; You paid for the VIP riot-squad guest. Go home, wash your eyes, check your bank account balance, You're funding the giants while you’re throwing the challenge Every hour you work, every dollar you earn Your valued contribution, a gallon of gas just waiting to burn Thanks for your investment We hope you enjoyed the service No more funding your own defeat, Time to reclaim streets with your feet SHAME SHAME SHAME SHAME STOP FUNDING THE WAR GAME The lead lodged in Renee's head The reason ,GOOD IS DEAD GOOD IS DEAD
Tags
Math rock, Nu metal, female Low range vocals. Emotional outrage
3:57
No
1/16/2026