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lirik lagu conspirituality - banksta banksta

and, among the partic~p~nts at the jekyll island celebration, were current fed chairman ben bernanke, and former chairman alan greenspan, along with a host of other regional chairpersons. and, we have scoop johnson on the scene with an exclusive. there actually was a hot microphone there, scoop?

yes, gloria. there was a hot mic, we could actually hear some of what they were saying. let’s listen in

afternoon, alan

ben, shalom

(laughs)

helicopter ben, how’ve you been?

not bad, alan

lovely. beautiful day for november, eh?

yeah, i was quite surprised, myself

talk about the crime of the century, eh?

(laughs)

like aurora borealis, so incredible to observe, we must ignore what they tell us about their federal reserve. because, most don’t know the half about jekyll island, so if i was you, i wouldn’t laugh, or heckle, my friend. when they control both sides, and they can disguise the opposition, maximize profits, and minimize competition. if they’re in the wrong position, then their belief backfires, some of the unsung have swung, and hung beneath the black friars. bad liars, search the lost files, and the pocket dwellers, even the blind would find the rothschilds & rockefellers. they forgot to tell us, or maybe i’ve made a mistake, about the seven men on j.p. morgan’s private estate. to survive, and create, a bank that’s been centralized, by a crooked~cartel, an unseen enterprise. at the center lies the deeper secrets of the mystery, only a few have been taught the sinister plot, and what it is to be one of the…

banksters…
disregard the fables you’ve been told, they’ve been dealin’ under the table, and they’ve stolen all your gold..
banksters…
won’t hesitate to leave you in the cold…
banksta, banksta…
bad~ass banksters…
banksters…
disregard the fables you’ve been told, they’ve been dealin’ under the table, and they’ve stolen all your gold…
banksters…
won’t hesitate to leave you in the cold…
banksta, banksta…
bad, bad~ass banksters…
they went back to the scene of the crime, where they sn~tched the dream from your mind, to celebrate their money machine remains supreme, and sublime. a gaggle of criminals, many can’t seem to define, who’ve essentially ripped your spleen from the seam, where your spine used to be. now, you have little immunity, they don’t just own the printing press, they operate the news, you see. (unh~huh) this is how they were able to move elusively, ’cause n0body heard the words of those like lindbergh, or louis t. many have lucidly, taken apart their schematic, able to poke at the heart, makin’ ’em start all the panic. ceremonies commence with a mystical enchantment, as they suck your life’s blood, in a ritual satanic. (aye, yo) you want a revolution? i’ma say how. march into their institutions, say “i ain’t your slave, now.” international money changers need to pay, now. they’ve been robbin’ ‘ya blind, time to make the bankster lay down…

bankster lay down…
bankster lay down…

bankster lay down, i ain’t your slave, now…

bankster lay down…
bankster lay down…

bankster lay down, i ain’t your slave, now…

bankster lay down…
bankster lay down…
bankster lay down, i ain’t your slave, now…

bankster lay down…
bankster lay down…

you oughta know by now…
you oughta know by…

the banksters…

(laughs)

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