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letra de palestine - luck-one

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[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 p-ss, 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 muslim 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!lling 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 l-st, 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”

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