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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