Impeach The President by AydeeTheGreat Carson
Impeach The President
[or The Beat That Made Hip-Hop Vote]
Somebody in the crowd yells,
"Impeach the DJ!"
and almost on cue
he places the needle tip down on the record
and the break-beat begins,
"Ladies & Gentlemen…"
immediately following a
boom…bap…boom-boom-boom…bap…
At that exact moment
I know that we can have our own political party—
That we need
our own political party.
boom…bap…boom-boom-boom…bap, "Ladies & Gentlemen…"
Right next to the DJ booth is the voting booth,
so right after you vote
you can request your favorite song…
boom…bap…boom-boom-boom…bap, "Ladies & Gentlemen…"
but you have to be registered
to vote,
which means you have to be registered
to make any other requests…
"Ladies & Gentlemen…"
And the dress code is 'Sunday’s Best'
boom…bap…boom-boom-boom…bap, "Ladies & Gentlemen…"
and after you request your favorite song,
you can elect to not be enslaved by the legislation,
which the DJ will read over the beat…
boom…bap…boom-boom-boom…bap, "Ladies & Gentlemen…"
…bap…boom-boom-boom…bap…Please pay attention to the hook…
boom-bap…Please pay attention…boom-boom-boom…bap, "Ladies & Gentlemen…"
…bap…boom-boom-boom…bap…
Then, he slaps the crossfader, and says,
"This is a paid advertisement from your sponsors…"
slap—boom-boom-boom—slap
"Hennessey Very Special Cognac & The Jordan Sneaker Company…"
slap—boom-boom-boom—slap
"You’re encouraged to vote with your wallets…"
slap—boom-boom-boom…bap, "Ladies & Gentlemen…"
…bap…boom-boom-boom…bap…
And the people are in a trance, dancing, drinking and carrying on.
The line at the DJ booth is bustlin'
because the hustlers want to hear Hustler Music,
and somebody wants You're Only A Customer.
So the DJ says, "I do customized mix tapes for almost pennies a song."
Then, Biggie’s Dead Wrong is mixed in,
and just when you think it can’t get any liver
the crowd almost rises in unison,
and I'm thinking dude can spin whatever record he wants and have them
moving to it,
so I'm pretty sure he could lead our political party
with slide dances
and chants of "Do my ladies run this muthafucka?"
Now, "Do my fellas run this muthafucka?"
"I said the roof…the roof…the roof is on fire.
We don’t need no water…"
And before last call, everybody who wants their voice heard
has their song played,
unless the DJ decides it would interrupt the mix,
in which case you get a mix tape at a considerable discount…
and your song goes to the top of the list next time around…
"No guarantees,"
the DJ says as the lights come up,
"We don’t want to ruin a good time."
And the people leave, satisfied.
And the DJ goes to the back room to collect his check.
The club owner smiles,
tosses him cash, and they have a good laugh
about Politics As Usual.