| Artist: | The South Shore Standard |
| Album: | ...For Working Class People... |
| Title: | Mission Impossible |
| Year: | 2016 |
| Track number: | 6 |
| Total tracks: | 10 |
| Disc number: | 1 |
| Genres: | Alternative & Punk / Hip Hop/Rap / Unclassifiable |
About the artist
"A breed of beings from The South Shore of Lake Michigan bringing only the finest quality hymns and fables presented over exquisite and sultry rhythms"...That sounded better than a bunch of working class folk making music for the soul...or did it? Either way we are here with a purpose, to make music that has a purpose. The South Shore Standard is more than a band though, it's an institution, a way of life. "
Lyrics
We on, a mission impossible, is it really probable
Eye in the sky, fillin' prisons makin' pocket fulls
Cause crime does pay, OH YEAH!, Crime does pay (x2)
Is it so hard to believe, conjure up and conceive, privatization of prisons for profitability? They pressed for new laws through a "war on drugs", but what they really did was turn a bunch of weed heads into thugs. Tearing families from hugs and destroy loved ones. All in the name of collecting more funds, ammo and guns, and pistols that stun, and make a suspect out of everyone. Is it the FBI or the NSA? At the end of the day, baby, they're all getting paid!
and this message will self destruct in 3, 2, 1!
(Hook x2)
You know they're tapping your phone and you're never alone. Got your tracking device with it's camara ind it's microphone. They probe your home and look inside your dome, 'cause they don't need to ask the questions when they already know the answers much faster than you can think. A minority report of what you might think. We try to wash the blood off our hands in the sink. The devil in the mirror blowing us a kiss and a wink. Now you don't gotta step in this shit to know that it stinks, and if you ain't already crazy, baby, your on the brink.
and this message will self destruct in 3, 2, 1!
(Hook x2)
Privatization for investors. Cooperate molesters caught red handed like a Flaming Hot Cheetah named Chester. Slowly start to fester. Clink and cuff arresters. As our country consistently crumbles from the pressure. Talking heads that lecture. Propagate projectors turn pain into profiting, and we are all prospectors. A culture of neglecters, conspiracy protectors. Treason into overdrive like boosting fuel injectors. A nation of defectors, government rejectors, bombed upon by uniforms with badges as deflectors.
and this message will self destruct in 3, 2, 1!
(Hook x2)
….....
STILL YOU LIVIN' IN A PLASMA BOX
Flock to Fox for camera shots that aim to shock
and shape the stock of all who watch
Pimpin' hos, Poppin' glocks, Flippin' rocks and stackin' guap
That's all these sheeple talkin' bout
Put that shit up out yo mouth, keep that shit up out yo house
Live and learn, trust is earned, always put your family first
Respect the hurt that you'll endure while mazin' through this universe
Etchin' stones, broken homes, How's a war really won?
I ain't tryna fuckin' argue, I just want this verse to spark you
Stop don't speak, start to think, How you feed into the scheme
Of what you really think are dreams, really they're just planted themes
From the magazines to the scripted scenes we're the fake I.D. of the programming
A.D.D./P.P.D all these new anxieties
They blame it on society, but they're no longer foolin' me
We been at war since birth, it hurts, to know they put their profits first
Acknowledge it, don't counterfeit your morals based on congress'
It's our revenge, we're aiming to end
Their grip inside you free your mind to open up your eyes to wide to skip over the fine print, only you can define this!
And this message will self destruct in 3, 2, 1!
(Hook x2)