Obama Get Out

Obama Get Out

You don’t have a clue
And you’re killing us all.
You take all our money
With no plan in stall.
You’re deranged in thinking your plans are anew,
They’ve been played out before
And all gone askew.
You’ve been nothing by hype
Since before day one.
Can’t you hear America sing
Get out da’ West Wing?!

Unlike Rob Ross painting happy little trees
He’ll draw on your brain with a rusty nail.
Implant visions that’ll make you wail.
You won’t see shit though
Until it’s too late.
Don’t get used to no fine dining
On that dinner plate.
You’re kids ‘ll be whining.
No more to sing.
Till you get that fucker
Out da’ West Wing!

You socialist pig
Wallowing in the mud of the left,
I got a small business, baby,
But you taxed it to death.
Once had a house
Nothing big, but clean.
Nothing like yours
Nor with your fantastic dreams.
I had a small business, baby.
I once had a house.
You stomped it to death.
But you’re akin to that, baby.
Bring your ass into the ring.
Knock you the fuck out
Of The People’s West Wing!