[Verse 1]
Right in the midst of the village where his clan lived, the youngun was slowly adapting to violence and the hate/
Praying that it wouldn't last, while he travels with a pa**, tryna make a little gouda within an enemy state/
They stop him at the gate with a name/
That's arabic they already know that he m**m so they taunt him and let him know that he faced with disdain/
Though he looking at the soldier and his face was the same/
As his cousin Malik, who made it out and beat it the odds, from the k**ing squads/
Plus the many mobs for God/
It's demagogues giving bombs to the synogogues and mosques and let it eat away at the calm/
Yet he reading everyday the qur'an, not depending on a free ride/
He side with a two state solution for seeking his freedom and never mettle with the jihad/
Though the devil got his peeps tied/
It got him, knee deep in a tide of flesh, feeling weak up in his bones though he tried to rest/
Though it hurt him in his soul, gotta make it through the check, just to get a little money and provide the flesh/
So he hugs his kids, seeking freedom like it does exist/
Not sure in the spot raw, seeking an oasis in the sand, while the people in his clan, down to murder over land like bloods and crips, what"
[Verse 2]
"Gettin the heat from the children and all, working steady in the sun tryna finish up his work tho he feeling appalled/
Get his orders from the government, but he knows that he isn't keeping with the covenant in building this wall/
Yet it's blood lust, for the military soldiers in the field getting bum rushed/
And they be on making the gun bust/
So he works for the perks, tho he's knowing that it's unjust/
Feel as if it wasn't right from the start/
Cause the beef is over God, but the murder's over land between a people he couldn't tell apart/
Knowing all of em only human and struggling to try and make a mark/
In this land called, stand tall or be murdered by the bomb blast/
Give it everything you got, but regulate in the spot for the contrast, dying to stay alive and experience the bombast/
That his palms grasp/
Yet he be needing a break from this/
Hard day's work, many label hatefulness/
Although the state got a fateful twist he can't be leaving em straight shot, devoid of his gratefulness/
So he hugs his kids, seeking freedom like it does exist/
Not sure in the spot raw seekin an oasis in the sand, while the people in his clan down to murder over land like bloods and crips, what"