They Know They Can't Win It Straight
When Republicans cannot win the people honestly, they redraw the people out of power.
Last August, I released Texas Hold ‘Em (Abbott Rules) in response to Texas’ cynical mid-decade redistricting scheme.
Now the corrupt conservatives on the Supreme Court pounded the last nail in the coffin of the Voting Rights act, clearning the way for a return to Jim Crow legal discrimination at the ballot box. Southern Republicans took immediate and full advantage to halt voting and redraw the maps. (Scroll for the many alternative genres below)
Lyrics
First they muffled the warning bells, called it neutral, called it fair
Took a knife to voting rights with a haughty legal air
Said the past was past enough, said the ground had finally changed
While the same old hands kept reaching for the power they could gain
Page by page and case by case, they whitewashed voting rights
Turned the law from shield to loophole, dressed retreat up as insight
What was written to protect got narrowed by design
Till the bench became a backhoe for the old exclusion line
Chip the stone and crack the wall
Call it doctrine, watch it fall
If you gut the rules that kept us safe
You hand the barbarians a key to the gate
They know they can’t win it straight
Trump’s tanking with Black folks, GOP panics
So they gut the vote and redraw the state
Politicians shouldn’t choose voters
Or Jim Crow gets a fresh coat of paint
Then Roberts hands Alito’s pen another loaded round
And suddenly the map rooms hum from every southern town
Memphis sliced in three quick cuts, Louisiana jams the brakes
Elections bent midstream for power, chaos sold as what it takes
Tornado watch, flood in the hall, still they rush to get it through
Like the weather itself was warning what these men were set to do
Not one secret midnight plot, not one hidden alley trade
Broad daylight, courthouse language, racial lines with new names made
Bless the knife and call it law
Split the people, steal it all
If you choke the vote and fix the weight
You did not win, you rigged the state
They know they can’t win it straight
Trump’s tanking with Hispanics, GOP panics
So they choke the ballot, lock the gate
Politicians shouldn’t choose voters
That’s Jim Crow dressed up as a court mandate
They say “colorblind” while drawing maps that bleach the living truth
Pack the Black wards, crack the barrios, shave the future from the youth
Move the line and move the school and move the weight of every street
Till representation turns to paper no one powerful has to meet
They do not need burning crosses, they do not need the sheet
They learned to trade the snarl for robes, the nightstick for a brief
Same old order, cleaner fonts, same contempt with softer names
A system built to blunt our numbers and then dare us to prove the blame
Who needs a hood when the robe does the job?
Who needs a cross when the court tips the law?
No torch to wave when the map does the work
No need to shout when the ruling’s the slur
The hood came off, the program stayed
Now it’s chamber votes and old charades
Same old poison, tailored fit
Same old grave, more elegant script
No new South
Old scheme
New stamp
Same dream
Cut the map
Cut the voice
Call it law
Leave no choice
They know they can’t win it straight
Trump’s tanking with women, GOP panics
So they split the map and rig the weight
Politicians shouldn’t choose voters
That’s the old white order in a fresh red state
They know they can’t win it straight
Trump’s tanking with young folks, GOP panics
So they carve us up and call it fate
Politicians shouldn’t choose voters
Or democracy dies by legal hate