Novatore the Cyborg - Wage War [tekst, tłumaczenie i interpretacja piosenki]

[Verse 1: Novatore]

Sell your labor get the dollar, serve the fast food
Hustle legitimate don't wanna see the clink
Bang the clock like a pervert with a time fetish
6am sugar drinking dishes in the sink
Face frozen winter steez hit the corner store
Maybe call the coroner and try to book a date
My fate was sealed when I found my car was paralyzed
Time to call the master let him know I'm coming late
Swipe the time card but not the one clenched in the fist
I swiped the microchip they planted up inside my wrist
Little shits got me working while I make them rich
I with someone would build a bomb and blow this fucking place to bits
Mind numb sometimes I feel like I'm just doing time
No identity, justin building products on the line
The more you work the more you hate your life that's what it seems
Factory of broken dreams, manufacture dollar signs

Cho 2x's

Punch the clock 9-5 thats how we get by
Wage labor just a new form of slavery
We shed tears for the passing of the former years
We spin the gears while it kills us psychologically


[Verse 2: Lord Lhus]

Fuck your 9-5 I wanna survive and live my life
Not slave inside the system conditioned and think it's right
When it's all wrong, backwards, hustlin' for the enemy
The streets is within me but the man wanna get rid of me
And all my thoughts, a free mind never enslaved
But enraged by the masters make me work everyday
??????? but they say it's a debt
Taxing your work for a check you don't earn 'til your dead
I'm not a sheep i'm a wolf in human skin, '
Til the end of when the revolution starts to begin
When the men they got their mind straight and working for a cause
Not workin with the law, the corruption is all in all
So i'ma keep it real keep it raw
You know the deal it's Lhus the only artist who really say how he feel
This is real life i'm not a slave, I don't behave
I'ma say fuck the system 'til the day i'm in my grave.. what?

Cho 2x's

[Verse 3: Novatore]

Went to the bosses house and rang the bell like 50 times
I put a package on the side walk and disappeared
He left the porch as expected to investigate
I slit his throat and took his cranium for souvenir
Picked up the body threw it in the trunk of his Bugatti
Woulda took the maserati could even find the key
Drove to the factory with leather gloves and molotovs
Burned that shit right to the ground, grabbed the burner, called the cops
I planned this shit out so thoroughly like architects
Rounded up some wood just before his last supper
I made a crucifix and nailed him down like jesus christ
Head on a stick played some t-ball with the louie slugger
That's the payback motherfucker can you picture this?
I took a blade and dug the chip out from my bloody wrist
You better save the page that documents this spectacle
Cuz shit will be collectible like pink floyd on picture disc