Who hacked ya (under the clear blue sky) | The Daily Star
12:00 AM, July 05, 2019 / LAST MODIFIED: 11:13 PM, July 05, 2019

Poetry

Who hacked ya (under the clear blue sky)

 

 

Pink, did you see the frightened ones?

Did you hear the widows screams?

Did you ever wonder why

We stood and helplessly watched a man die?

The bloods have all dried with our shame, but the scars forever remain

 

TURN THE BEAT UP

I.

Who hacked ya? Separate the meek from the obsolete

Aint hard to stay armed in these Barguna streets

The laws and the lawless now thicker than thieves

Slicker than Rick, can’t get anything to stick

Bystanders unaffect,

I didn’t expect to get jumped

Where has this society come,

Dumber than dumb, but more than that we numbed

The law shocked,

But wasn’t a tailor slain?

Under another blue sky, so who we gon’ blame?

We got pictures of that too and we got names

We can find militants in haystacks

But for everything else, hands wrung, we ashamed

Shootout shootout,

criminals fall to the velvet glove

You gave us guns and drugs

And Ice, they still wonder why the hell we thugs?

 

 

[Interlude]

 

Now as we proceed, to be given what they think we need

Fifty-seven, young brother

These sections is codes from heaven, young brother

After the fact man hunt, young brother

Stand and clap for this man’s stunt, young brother

 

II.

I see the might,

Excite all the freaks

Bags of tricks, spread hate with the sheep

Had to escort my wife, had to have her back

We always secure, but don’t know where the securers at

A nation cowered, but still catchin’ flak

We not afraid of what they have,

But scared of what they lack

NO ONE WILL BE SPARED

They always tellin the graves

Yeah no one will be spared,

But ain’t no one gettin’ saved

Promisin more promises

Remixin, replayin old tapes

There is no food crisis

Only nine month olds getting raped

 

 

[Interlude]

 

Now as we proceed, to be given what they think we need

Fifty seven, young brother

Forgive and forget in a second, young brother

Middle-income, young brother

But more than half for only some, young brother

 

III.

And Pac, listen, we still see no changes

Wake up in the morning and I ask myself.

Should I wear my real face or should I mask myself?

I’m tired of the grind, but it’s worse to get the boot

Lynch the thieves in lungis, but spare the thieves in suits

Cops give a damn ‘bout what you did, only care for how you look

This is the new BLM, Bangladeshi lives matter

But you’ll only know it when they shoot

 

Fifty seven, young brother

Don’t act now but wait for heaven, young brother

 

Frank, hear me,

Nothing involves the people, no need to even care

One false move, you will be disappeared

400 new stations, yeah respect they demand it

100 more dailies, now come to the seventy-first commandment:

Thou shall not speak ill of the baby or the Poppa

In a 100 tribunals is where they might drop ya

You give the look, your brother can drop a bomb

She who remains calm, will not be harmed

But dissent and you’ll make front page,

Dumb slave

Soon after you are an inch filler column in the back

Then its “bury it in metro”

Cause pens can’t hurt gats

A justice tempered is worse than justice denied

Lady Justice can’t even hold her ground

So this justice is just these lies

Hah

 

[Outro]

 

No picket lines

No picket signs

Millionaires make laws

in this corporatocracy

Speak not

of what you see

What’s going on?

Tuff Gong, what’s going on?

They were never in the right

So are we the ones

going wrong?

 

Under this clear blue?

 

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