


My MP wants my MPC, and the MP3s from all MCs,
But that's all free under CC, but my MP ain't even sorry,
His parliament ain't even funk, and if you ask i call it junk,
He drinks slowly unloaded coke, I sniff it raw and that's no joke.
My torrents lead to his torment, to me that's fair I pay no rent,
He's riding horses, I'm feeding mules, but if you ask me that's just oldschool,
My MP that's a pity, knows dicks about equity,
He's so unfair he turns uncool, but in the end he makes the rules.
My MP wants my MP3s, a silly joke that turns to me,
He's out of sight when I need him, he's elected when I impeach him,
The retired he represents, to him my taxes are a present,
There is no end to his command, the New Statesman could be his friend.
My MP dreams of ministries, and the keys to my registries,
But I'm so linux and OS X, there's no escrew to my complex,
I connect home on SSH, so that his cops remain clueless,
So that my MP don't get my buzz, I'm high on crack and avoid the fuzz.
When comes the time of the elections, he recalls his own religion,
He's so popular in the press, that's so obvious but that's a mess,
My MP wakes up the dead, but when I'm OD I don't see his head,
He simplifies if own rulings, let him know he ain't no king.
But if my MP is my MP, that's 'cause my hood is on money,
He'll still be there when I'll be gone, long time no see, depth by dawn,
My MP wants my MPC, my MP3s and all MCs,
But that's all free under CC, if you hear me, protect me.