| Dear Mumia, wish Obama woulda freed ya
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| Thought if anyone could see a reason to do it, he would
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| 8 years in Oval Office, not a damn thing for us
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| It took all us as supporters to ensure that he could
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| Beat Hillary and Mitt
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| I admit, I was bamboozled by that hope shit
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| No shit, shoulda knew better
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| Whoever take a stance as you did gettin silenced
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| Met with violence, defyin' your ties to the Panthers, stood as a threat
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| Voice of the voiceless, let’s not forget
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| Someone gon' pay that debt, when the cop laid to rest
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| Judge Sabo tried to fry a nigga, but you a fighter with the fire in ya
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| a prophet or messiah figure
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| I’m just writing to ya, knowin there’s still life within ya
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| You’re off death row, still time’s a killer
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| Out here these kids is lost and forgotten, the cost is options
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| But good ideas fall on deaf ears, they’re playing possum
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| And I know they know you’re innocent
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| But freedom was gone the minute when
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| They knew they had you the same way they had Chairman Fred
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| , Geronimo Pratt
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| Ratta-tat-tat your soul. |
| Innocent or no
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| Doesn’t matter though. |
| COINTELPRO in control
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| You gotta go. |
| I’m just tryna get into the know
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| Tryna understand
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| Understand:
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| These kites I write to breathe life into those lost souls
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| Boxed in in the box, sitting, downtrodden, rotten, in a world so cold
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| These kites I write to breathe life in
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| These kites I write to breathe life in
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| These kites I write to breathe life into those lost souls
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| Dylan, why did you kill em?
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| Why did you enter building while they was praising Jesus? |
| You turned em into
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| victims
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| Somebody in there had to had them a funny feeling, still they accepted you
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| Knew someone neglected you. |
| This world gave you the ammunition that you used to
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| execute
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| Confederate flags, and fathers in white rags
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| Teach your children 'bout the great days, KKK
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| Burnt crosses, hung nooses, taught you this
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| Hate within, 8'x10', boxed in, nothin' but time
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| Clutchin' a 9; |
| clock grim when it tick-tick-tick
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| And you just wanna hear the trigger click-click-click
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| Don’t wanna face the judge, face the jury, face the mugs
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| Of the families you tortured, plans you altered that day you lost it
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| That day you ruptured foundation, structure
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| The day they took ya in and you sucked the life outta them out of pure evil
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| inside
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| You’re evil inside, that’s where the devil resides
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| It’s where the trouble began. |
| Took a look in your eyes
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| All I saw was emptiness, a whole lotta pain
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| So I began to scribble this kite, maybe in vain
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| But I need to understand
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| I’m just tryna understand
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| These kites I write to breathe life into those lost souls
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| Boxed in in the box, sitting, downtrodden, rotten, in a world so cold
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| These kites I write to breathe life in
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| These kites I write to breathe life in
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| These kites I write to breathe life into those lost souls |