Lyrics

Yo, L.I. double-R, bayside train line Grew up on butter chicken, a double-digit waistline Stubble on my face like, when I'm on a plane ride People don't wanna sit on the same side, what? Look at me I'm harmless, I'm wearin' a tank top What could I be armed with? You can have the aisle seat You can have the armrest, you can have the barf bag This is not a bomb test (This is not a bomb test) Soccer moms nervous when I'm sittin' on a flight So brown that I'm I'd ticketed at lights Hot sauce, white sauce, yes, chicken over rice So brown, copped the Ali Zafar album, yes, I listened to it twice Hookah high school parties, always visited the heights Mom never let me kick it overnight On a curfew, mom wanted me to go to Berkley Dad wanted me to get into Islamic clergy Chachoo said he'd work me in his diner makin' burfi "Bilkul jasi ghar ke," I was playin' Kirby Nightmare, dreamland, I was watchin' He-Man Eastside Queens, never talk to the police man, please man Barry said that we can Try to get it all done within a weekend See the same dumb sh- up on C-SPAN Where the change at? Strip the world down like a teen cam And it's gone in a flash Everything solved with a bomb and its blast 'Long as the promise of cash is involved, no impossible task Like nah, we had no other options with that Middle East with some peace, yeah, one day Body cams on police, yeah, one day White punk shootin' schools, they don't update rules 'Cause Americans in love with they gunplay Pow, someday, Sunday Go to church, amen, God is the one way Anybody not on board, aww, buddy we deport We wanna be great again, do what Trump say That man is godawful, compares to none Melting pot is what makes us American Still watch during convos, parents judged From their accents, hmm, think where we're from Latinos all hoodlums that carry guns, right? Criminals, rapists, sellin' drugs, right? Stealin' our jobs, it ain't fair to us, right? Privileged cops who prepared to cuff, right? Hands up, but the cop scared, he bust like Pow, and it's done, was nowhere to run, right? One last breath from his pair of lungs From that night he was tryna get his errands done, nice All hail the monarch, the pharaoh king About to diddle in the East like the Arab Spring It's embarrassing, let's ban refugees, huh? I just want a slice of that New York Pizza I've even got a shirt saying, "I love Isa" I drew a little picture of you on my Visa Oh great conquistador More the type to visit moms on the eastern shore Than a villain on a felony police report Ain't you heard it's impolite, what you eavesdrop for? Phone tap, PAT act, what a turn of events MAGA turning time back, made em' yearn for the past tense Gave Lady Liberty an urn full of ashes A term full of facists, a cabinet of flammable gases Burnin' our flag with alternative facts Now we turnin' our backs to the masses Fake news, false reporters Build a wall on the border with caulk and mortar Not law and order, turn a circus to a theme park Even if you got a ticket and a green card America the darling, America the sweetheart, the police state From the Bronx to the Verrazano freeway Middle East, Russia, terrorism three-way Mom doesn't know if she should feel safe Never used to lock doors, now we check the key fob Now she goes to J Crew, never wear the hijab Now we make our own chai, never hit the sweets shop Abbu think we got bugs hidden in the sheetrock Ammi think I ought to get myself a real job Too afraid to protest, all we do is read blogs Never do we bleed out, all we do is treat clots All it is is foreplay, never hit the G-spot
Writer(s): 0, Shayan Rehan Afridi Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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