clashing with a passion
Just the other day tanks rolled in smashing everything from the School-yard to the building. Gassing my hometown as they downed their shells on crowds to pound, thrashing. Bombs mashing drown the sounds. We cry why another grave (man)?
Another round another blaze (man)? Bullets spray another prey, another brave man, made a pact so itís on we stand our ground. Gotta act grab a stone cause the droneís just a throw away (man) hound gotta pay (man).
Save my fam and my own (man), stashing just a rock in my hand sling shot black hawk down crashing. What now? See me turning and dashing. Vowed somehow to liberate so we clashing with a passion, learning to ration, my mate got a bashing so Iím lashing with no Kalashnikov brov. Olive branch and a white dove: get stuffed!
Got no love for fascist and ruling factions spurning my peopleís right of return. Dawn raid sirens flashing and Gaza is burning (gov) yearning for action. Churning Shaheeds earning their patch and mansions. See even in Eid we bleed, whilst you eat them sweets. And hit the streets so you clubs to beats and move your feet puffin on hash and weed, whilst weíre getting beats as they club our knees, when we hit the streets to protect our peeps. Trust it ís all trauma, they bust and keep blasting but like a fashion Itís never lasting, we got diplomas for raw guts. And thatís the life we lead its pure drama you must have caught a glimpse on Panaroma.