Market Made Murder
Sims Lyrics

(It's all about the money man. More cheddar more cheese more better man)

Market made murder
Martyr my merge
I sell a fantastic
Hell in hand baskets
Market commercial
Merc in a mask person
Television tearin' up
Poor baby fresh

(Episode 1)

War every time I turn on the television
Reborn then advertised then beat into submission
Still more billboards in the Minneapol so so
So we choke 'cuz they lower the blows
And there's still nowhere to go
And we know by the burning in our throats
By our furniture and clothes
And by the burdens that we cope with
In a sermon that we know for certain is nonsense
Not God's steps held hostage
I wake to daily bomb threats
I don't consider that progress
Evolution to revolution
We're losing head and fed illusions
So instead my fists are movin'
Bob and weave knockin' down monopolies
Now how come I can not believe
In _________________________
Well I don't and I won't
So I throw the remote
At the hegemony box
While you drool and jerk off
To celebrity spots
Who knew, it was you, that was the empty mascot?
Staple statics status
They share magnets
The bear tactics they practice
Keep you passive and mild
Live life inside that clear plastic
That home gas mask kit
That old half mast shit
Arose a tack wit
That coat I've tracked with
Close my casket
Bury me in the worthless
Market made murder
While we burn on the surface

Market made murder
Martyr my merge
I sell a fantastic
Hell in hand baskets
Market commercial
Merc in a mask person
Television tearin' up
Poor baby fresh

("Hold on, do you mind me breaking in at this point?"
"Go ahead."
"There's no doubt that the obvious solution is to go for quick profits."
"All right. But I can't just take your word for it."
"Well what's the trouble?"
"The trouble is that you're out of touch with this market.)

(Episode 2)

[Toki Wright]
Market made up of murder for turbulent times
When the country increased the deficit what do you find?
You start a war in the 3rd world already won
I thought the Earth was the 3rd world close to the sun
You see now some have the extinction agenda for sums
Well they'll make you think you're defenseless and workin' for crumbs
But now who works the fields? The people
Who bakes the bread? The people
The any in who gets to eat it
The masters are evil, deception
Creators of weapons of mass mass destruction
Horror, bad things, terror
Some time's the enemy's the man in the...
I can see clearer now the rain is gone
But some have gone about it all wrong
Puttin' faith in a system corrupted
And havin' expectations of justice
Now you can't puff this
Gotta grind the gears through the machine that's busted
It's warm, gotta do more than just talk and perform
Work on what's mine and what's yours and what's ours
And here's a message for those who tall
The bigger you are the harder you fall
The bigger you are the harder you fall

("May I interrupt here?"
"All right."
"With respect, your report doesn't cover the market thoroughly."
"I suspect that we are not being fairly represented. What's your opinion on the matter?"
"The market's changed."
"You've got a point there. I'm suggesting we commission a market study immediately."
"That's easy enough.")

(Episode 3)

[Mike Mictlan]
It's the making of a man
Mammoth mammal that manage ran it
Over mass metro
Metro pop the culturist mass
Anti-Christian crystal clear
Alter alien active
Active vision the school
Episcopalian acts
It's as though religion is fact
In the safety insanely
Forsaking my atrium tracks
But God damn doubt my man
Made of flesh and organics
360 degrees plus
5 points around the planet
Do the math
Measure the magnitude of my magnets
The circumference of my substance
Steady soul it goes stag
So most nights post
In a zombie I'm tossing
While ghosts swell in my shell
And dwell for haunting
Nightmares turn reoccurring
Dirty burning subconscious
Flat line and capsize
In a mental motion all cautious
'Cuz that paranoia
Preoccupies precaution
I grew to far and the ball that tossed
Is exhausted because
Deep inside there are no monsters
Or flyin' saucers
Carry martians to my concerts
There's only the loneliness of martyrs
Growin' a hole in my head
Escapin' the ceremonial carcass
The market made a murder
But murder didn't make the market
Let your life shine
If you can penetrate through the darkness
The target is to keep on survivin'
Inside of apartments
Commercialize my worth
To fit me inside of their margins

Market made murder
Martyr my merge
I sell a fantastic
Hell in hand baskets
Market commercial
Merc in a mask person
Television tearin' up
Poor baby fresh

Contributed by Natalie E. Suggest a correction in the comments below.
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Comments from YouTube:

boudicaa storm

This track is FIERCE!!! <33333 That grungy sound in the background of Toki's verse is sick af

Tyler Self

Hey Sims!! Thank you for making music that's from the heart. This will always be one of my favorite albums.

Charlotte W

Wow this slaps!!

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