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eating the rich - lowest of the low lyrics

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my best friend’s got a great career
she answers phones for seven dollars an hour
and every now and then we paint the town red
and eat our way toward a different balance of power

well, it’s our fate and we don’t refuse it
it’s our plate but we did not choose it

we’re eating the rich now
it’s a revolutionary chow-down

well, i’m a snotty brat with a bad att-tude
but i don’t believe the world owes me a dinner
but even jesus christ might’ve dined and dashed
the last supper… what a bad holy host
a bread breakin’ sinner

and every power lunch has a gold-card lining
i feel like the karl marx of dining

a brisk run from the cops can help your meal digest
i suggest not a dead-end alley
’cause if they track you down they’ll serve you up
like a criminal de jour… they’ll toss you like a salad
so, take your place and stop your b-tchin’
the head-chef in the death-row kitchen’

- lowest of the low lyrics

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