Your Mom
Lyrics
The embedded hypocrisy, fighting autocracy
With an army of convenience
From a region whose hopes and dreams bordered on mediocrity
Profiteering through theocracy
Soldiers of fortune from the most unfortunate
Army of God carrying tripods
Extremism dressed like your mom
Against all known gods
Butchering, raping, killing and burning
Brutally beheading your enemies
What kind of retarded promises
Have led you to these prophecies?
Despicable fool, you're just a fucking tool
You'll never get to rule, you'll die on your knees
What kind of retarded finances
Have led you to these fantasies?
Devised as fighters against the wrong
Riding our special horses
Funded and supported by royal decrees
And don't forget radical greed
Butchering, raping, killing and burning
Brutally beheading your enemies
What kind of retarded promises
Have led you to these prophecies?
Despicable fool, you're just a fucking tool
You'll never get to rule, you'll die on your knees
What kind of retarded finances
Have led you to these fantasies?
So you wanna die?
You wanna die
Gonna die for your God, wanna die for your God
Wanna die for your God, wanna die for your God
Butchering, raping, killing and burning
Brutally beheading your enemies
What kind of retarded promises
Have led you to these prophecies?
Despicable fool, you're just a fucking tool
You'll never get to rule, you'll die on your knees
What kind of retarded finances
Have led you to these fantasies?
So you wanna die?
You wanna die
Gonna die for your God, wanna die for your God
Wanna die for your God, wanna die for your God
Now that we have an agreement with your mom
Against the riches of the far right
Let's help your mom wrong the right
And give her the green light
Let your mom in and watch her wipe 'em out
Let your mom in and watch her wipe 'em out
Let your mom in and watch her wipe 'em out
Let your mom in and watch her wipe 'em out
Let your mom in and watch her wipe 'em out
Let your mom in and watch her wipe 'em out
Let your mom in and watch her wipe 'em out
Let your mom in and watch her wipe 'em out
Ten, twenty, thirty, forty, fifty
Seventy-two virgins
Nah, bruh
Writer(s): Serj Tankian
Copyright(s): Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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