Fed tit I’m milking,
takin’ more and more
while I am brayin’,
“Government’s a whore!”
Give me free markets
while the tit I’m on.
The only thing I produce
is a job named “con.”

It’s not right, my burden--
can’t get enough guns.
I’m a scammin’-it man:
sov’reign citizen.

Foment’s my game plan—
terrorizing’s great.
But, give me my handout--
don’t be late!
Down in the basement,
a cache of .38s. . .
teachin’ to the children
how to aim ’em straight.

I’m unrightly burdened,
and I need more guns
I’m a carryin’ man:
sov’reign citizen

I’m no law-abiding man;
laws just give me fits, and then
I pay no taxes, love Ayn Rand—
sov’reign citizen.

It’s my shooters they’re seekin’. . .
enemies abound.
And I am very paranoid
’bout a gun impound.

I’ll only feel pleasure
when I’m in a state
where all my winning ways go
to make all things great.

Ow! my right side’s hurtin’
guess I’m sick, so then:
Call the ambulance, and
social programs send!