Hey, Kevin, exploitation's nothing new
It's a perfect disguise
In your head dress and authentic moccasins
You seemed just like a righteous man,
Exposing our great land for what is
The ultimate grand larceny
But who would have thought that when you danced
Dollar signs were in your eyes
Above and beyond your large share in Hollywood?
You were a wolf in sheep's clothing to a wolf and a people
And your bad actions by far outweigh the good
The theoretical "oh, we fucked over Native Americans"
Is no match for consciously stuffing your dick in
Reservations are already a pathetic compensation
As are the 'rights' we grudgingly give them
A casino could be the only way to rejuvenate
Collapsed economies of reservation Indians
But are profits from casinos enough compensation for the fact that
We stuffed a huge nation of people into a few tiny towns
And raped and murdered their traditions, stole their land and beat them down?
The casinos are fucking corporate run
And initial check for the use of sacred burial grounds
And the casino's fucking done
Giving nothing back to the Indians
Except for janitor jobs and garbage by the ton (tough guy eight count)
And old Kevin is his own conglomerate
Exploitation through a movie, then through blackjack and roulette
Don't attend or rent his shitty films
'Cause his killing at the box office is not the only thing he has killed
