(Crocker Verse)

/ Kid said foreign countries don't fear us enough/ I shook my head like "is that really what's up?"/ Do you know our history, what we've done from the jump?/ Example slave trade or giving natives the gun/ Along with blankets fulla small pox, whiskey, & rum/ In exchange for their trust, just to pump bullets in them/ Go to any reservation that's left in the country/ And ask if they fear what we'll do for some money?/ Dig Jesus up and ask if Romans rattled his people/ If they were treated like cattle, marked, belittled, and beaten/ How the Goy's did his brother when he spouted his teachings/ Took a rock to his skull and then relentlessly beat it/ Find footage of Saddam when he was facing the noose/But a shell of what he was, like a manic recluse/ Peep Gandhi facing Britain and the courage displayed/ While most would've cowered, he put his chips on his faith/ A preacher named Brown, Harper Ferry's VA/ With his sons & freed slaves, he rang a shot in their face/ They killed his kids, and for his sins, the gallows await/ He said we're all God's children, neck snapped in the wake/ Modern day, Iraq, 2 million and counting/ No weapons founded, just contracts and accounting/ We're the children of the Greeks, the Romans, & Britain/ So say again, how foreign countries think that we're slipping?/ Foreign or domestic, there's been palpable tension/ Said foreign or domestic, been palpable tension/

(Krosswordze Verse)
/The land of the fee, the home of the slave/ Indentured servitude, no gratitude, hence the attitude that they hate/ "Who are they?"/ The Mitt Romney's and the 53 percent/ Who openly admit they want to keep it this way/ And can't relate to n****r's, s**c's, and gay's, but will debate for a way/ To put more of these n*****s away/ The amber waves of grain stock piled/ But families can't put food on their plates/So what part of this America's so great?/ That you have to lift your face pledge allegiance to a place/ In which you have no stake, and they really don't want you to stay/ "It's not that way" Then ask the native tribes who've barely even survived/ Since the Europeans arrived and the land swiped from their eyes/ Millions have died, all because of lies/ From 1830 to 1838, they forced every native and some Africans out of the eastern states/ "but Ole Hickory's so great.." at least that's what history say/ Then again, I guess that's why his face is on currency plates/