Where’s my handout they ask
You owe me
I’ve got it coming to me
I’m a victim
Tired of hearing them complain
About how oppressed they are
They give them handouts
Again and again
Though nothing changes
They give them more
Too busy to care
They eat at
Drive through windows
Doing their best to ignore
The drive by shootings
They lock themselves
In their houses
Afraid to walk the streets
In their own neighborhoods
Even their violence is lazy
It would require effort
To park the car and skill
To hit what
you’re shooting at
Maybe we owe
them
Shooting
lessons too
At least that
way
Innocent people
Wouldn’t get
caught
In their
careless crossfire
What’s next?
Should
taxpayers pay
For their
cocaine
Methamphetamine
and bullets too?
That’s a great
idea
Let’s buy them
bullets
So they can
shoot at us more
Let’s give them
taxpayer dollars
To get more
tattoos
Let’s give them
taxpayer dollars
So they can buy
nicer shoes
Let’s give them
taxpayer dollars
When I can’t
even afford
To put gas in
my car
Maybe we should
Give them our
homes
Maybe we should
all move
And give them
the entire country
Who would they
complain to
And sponge off
of then?
There would be
no one left
But other
complainers
Freeloaders who
only take
What was never
theirs
In the first
place
Then have the
nerve to complain
That it isn’t
enough
The courtrooms are overflowing
The news grows more depressing
Every day
Too tired to protest
Hard working people sit in silence
Afraid to speak up
Afraid to take action
They watch their country
Decline more and more
With each passing year
Is it our civic duty
To pay for someone
To have more children
That they can’t afford to take care of?
How about if I quit my job
And you can pay for me
To sit and do nothing
But complain?
Yeah, how about that?
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