Written by C Hues
June 7, 2023
I see their spike in crime— Each power-hungry poser. They rise up with the clime As we lose all composure. There’s murder on their hands! No ground to take their stands. They shoot us in the back— All for 200 grand… The ones who hate our guts— Yet smile like we’re the same. And some believe the act. The Oscar’s in their name. Forget who got them where they were But recall all the wrongs. They think we’ll sing their praises— But no one knows the songs.