Where did they come from?
Why are they here?

Hi-tech piranhas
With Bluetooth barnacle ears

Living breathing biohazards
Spit their money in everyone's face
Worship all these shitty indie-pop bands
Babies in cigar bars
Trying to play Gatsby

They want us gone
Close the clubs
We might disturb their lofts

Dot com Monte Carlo
Dot com Monte Carlo

Where's the gangs in the mission
When you need em?
How 'bout some yuppie drive-bys
For a change?

Never knew geeks
Could be so damn mean
Artists and workers
Bulldozed out by the thousands

Can't afford to be black
Or teach school in this town

My vet had to relocate
To his garage

Where can we go
Oakland, then to Portland then LA?
Their Gold Rush immolated like Pompeii
But they're back!

Dot com Monte Carlo
Yuppie San Francisco
Nowhere left to go
We got news for you
Kook City
Proud of it

You and the Chamber of Commerce
Can shove it
Kook City
Proud of it
You and Nancy Pelosi
Can go straight to hell
Valet parking signs on Valencia
Wanna chase those twits
Down the street with a chainsaw
Trespass their restaurants
Swipe the food off their plates
Til' they hit me
Then smear them with honey
And release thousands of bees
Look at the giant middle finger
They put by the Bay Bridge
So floors of luxury condos
Just for them
They're trying to put up more and more
On slippery landfill
So when the big quake comes
We'll drink a toast
Dance in the streets
And watch as it all fall down
Timber
Timber
Timber
Die!

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