And The Songbird Sings (Bioshock Infinte Rap)

And the songbird sings...

(It's infinite)

This is for the voices who are unheard

Who never back-talked one word to the songbird

This is for the second class citizens, and prisoners locked alone

I bring a list of things the prophet wants you not to know

I've got to blow the propaganda out the box and so

Open up the rift and put this disc into your voxophone

I'll take your brain to places it doesn't often go

So brace yourself for take off and watch the show

I'm properly known as booker dewitt

And I've had enough of this shit

Fed up of being stuck in a rut

So I'm looking to rough up a couple of pricks

And accomplish a mission to look for a woman imprisoned and stuck in a city where something's amiss

Like the rhythm the government's drumming to whip the anger of the people

Daily handling the stress

While I've just ambled in from gambling and landed in a mess

And I'm telling ya, elizabeth isn't a damsel in distress

She's the damn best wingman to ever don a dress

To be honest, we've loads of things

In common, we both can bring an opening

We're probably closer twins

Than robert and rosalind

I throw my grapple and aim

To blow the back of your brain out

And contemplate on why we play those irrational games

My main foe is zachary hale comstock

The day his reign begun, a fundamental bomb dropped

Columbia's on lockdown

Every day they're destroying somebody, so what now?

Send for daisy fitzroy

The rich get fatter, while the slums are getting hungrier

It's a matter of time before they pull the rug from under you

We'll make your money disappear from you like a conjurer

And overthrow the fundies that are plundering columbia

So, I know this is absurd and sounds bananas

But have you observed the way they worship founding fathers?

That's why the vox populi have hurtled out the darkness

Emerged, about to start to turn around and clout this heartlessness

If this disc is flying, you'll be dying like you're hyacinth

Hirelings or higher things

Vox populi's guys or jeremiah fink's

If they pile in on me, then they're receive undying violence

I'll lynch the pious kings with the silent wire strings

From the tiny violins that won't be crying when they're lying singed

Ignite the tinder, set the sky alight in flights of cinders

And let freedom ring inside your cries like the singer

That's like trying to hide your violent injuries, as if they're minor things, by keeping just a tiny thimble on your finger

One hand holds vigors

The other pulls triggers

I'm a multi-tasking action man with a glass full of malt liquor

Salt licker

Rapture's contraptions are fantastic

But don't exist yet, so that is how we pack plasmids

No need to hack gadgets

The manner in which I battle a handyman is akin to black magic

My life's a play where every act's tragic