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Hey Kevin, exploitation's nothing new
Its perfect disguise is you
Your headdress and authentic moccasins

You seem just like a righteous man
Exposing our great land
For what it is, the ultimate grand larceny

But who would have thought
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 the 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?

We stole the land and beat them down
The casinos are fucking corporate run
And here's a check for the use of sacred burial grounds
Then the casino's fucking done
Giving back to the Indian
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
Because his killing at the box office is not the only thing that he's killed

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