No doubt you’ve already downloaded the new Immortal Technique album, The Martyr. If you haven’t, you might wanna do that.

This is one of my favourite tracks of the album, with Tech positioning himself as a “one percenter”. Behind the irony, there’s a serious message, and Tech works the double-time flow surprisingly well.

You get up and howl about America and democracy
There is no America, there is no democracy
We no longer live in a world of nations and ideologies
The world is a college of corporations
Inexorably determined by the immutable bylaws of business
The world is a business and I have chosen you to preach this evangel

[Intro]
For all my free market, health care-robbing
Stock-stealing, retirement fund fuckin’-with ni**as
Fuck your little credit card-scamming, jewelry-stealing
Crack-selling, liquor store-robbing, motherfuckers
Shout out to the homies Carnegie, OG Willy Randolph Hearst
Farouk, Rockefeller – the real Rockefeller
My main b**ch Leona, pour out a little Louis the 13th
Scott Rothstein, Jack Abramoff, hold ya head
My Rothschild ni**as…
LET’S GET THIS MONEY!

[1st Verse]
I spend my day pairin’ America overseas
Pension for the workers, ni**a please
Embezzlement etiquette, private settlement
I’m better with confederate rhetoric
From my mansion in Connecticut
Foreclose, evict hoes out of tenement
I twist words like a speech impediment
I hope you got good credit, b**ch
If not, better get a new job with benefits
While I play golf with ni**as I get cheddar with
New money buys brand new carats
My old money bought your rich grandparents
You got grills in your mouth, I ain’t mad at ya
I own every goldmine in South Africa
Thanks, baby, you made me a billion
Plus I own a building for each one of my children’s children, that’s the shit
Snort coke in the whip, Miss USA suckin’ my dick
Yeah, what! Fuck the law cause real jail is for suckas
I go to country club prison, you dumb motherfuckers
(I am the 1 percent, fuckin’ b**ch!)

[Hook]
You know my CEO, corporate steeze, please
Overthrow governments overseas in a breeze
Politicians in my pockets for a few hundred Gs
So if I’m ever in court, my assets will never freeze

[2nd Verse]
I got a job and a house and a bank account
When I’m out, I doubt that’s something you can say
And if not then I’ll fake death like Kenneth Lay
Make money everyday the world burns on its axis
While y’all struggling to pay taxes
I’m getting my money the fastest
Memos and faxes, shredded up documents
Slush funds through the corrupt continents
But they don’t want me indicted
Cause they don’t want my dirty laundry aired when I’d fight it
Don’t get my lawyers excited
Cause what good is a law if you can’t rewrite it
I got CIA, traitors
Dictators, so fuck y’all whistleblowers and haters (SHEEEEEEIIIIITTT!)
All of this money from Al-Qaeda
In the bank 9/11 widows go to later
Capitalism’s who I pray to, fuck the state of the world
Money talks so what the fuck I need to say to ya girl
(I don’t pay them to fuck! I pay them to leave!)

[Hook 2]
You know my CEO, corporate steeze, greed
I treat countries like the IMF, down on your knees
Real gangstas run the world, fuck what you believe
I’ll cut down a forest while you ni**as burnin’ some trees
I’ll get your family murdered for a couple of Gs
Cause your working class money ain’t fucking with me
You think rappers are rich cause of songs you heard
My labels make the money and have them rap the fucking words

[3rd Verse]
Yacht in the ocean, coastin’ with the sails out
Hey America, thanks for the bailouts
I made off with the Banco Ambrosiano
Got away scot-free like Il Vaticano
Activists act a b**ch, get mad at me
Cause of my tax-free charity
80 percent to the staff and company
And 20 percent to the homeless and hungry
The country gotta pay the Fed Reserve
Kick back to the banksters, haven’t you learned
You protest cops or patrols on the street
But I bought city hall so I own the police
E-mail, Facebook, and the shit you tweet
All the phone companies, so I heard you speakin’
My suggestion is your correction
No elections, sex with no affection
No invention of benefit to world of man
Will exist till I got the money in my hand
World Bank interest rate damn rape on the spot
But I’m gangsta, you gon’ take my money like it or not
(I got your country in my pocket, motherfucker!)

[Hook 3]
You know my CEO, masonic steeze, cheese
Only little people pay all these taxes and fees
Since you were born we control what you watch and you read
And pretty soon we’re gonna own the fuckin’ air that you breathe
I take what I want, fucker, I don’t have to say please
I convince you that it’s good for you, take it and leave
You think president’s are a face of a nation
I put ‘em all way off, end of the conversation