Phatwa Lyrics & Chords By The Narcicyst

C-I-A-F-B-I Enter and spy
When we fly denied, from planes landing into NY (why?)
C-I-A-F-B-I, sentenced our lives (Phatwa)
I’ll get deported somewhere to die….
What kind of life is this? Out of sight, out of mind with divisiveness
Get your head right, we’re betrayed and gone wrong, hold on
Arabs get their roll on like backgammon with souls lost,
Rap’s Khalil Gibran, puffin’ cedar trees,
cuffed on the lawn of the white house, right now they (pump pain and oil while they murrrdaah)
Somethings you never heard of,
Bodies get blasted back, tagged and taxed,
Beef served cheap eating vats of fat
On the other side, brothers wearing bags for hats,
Orange jumpsuit steez, standing back to back.
Party in the heat now, (evvvveeerybody)
We living dead huh? Give him a phatwa,
Bless God (I get deported somewhere to….)
Feds like ‘C’mon let’s talk…”
Security’s, rarely irrelevant, impurity in the scale of my element,
The lies make me mo’sad like Israeli intelligence, barely a militant
Humans pail in benevolence
Rap’s Salman Rushdie, outlandish, no sound scan push me,
Balance outstanding, how candid!
(Pump pain and oil while they muuurrdah)
Somethings you never thought of,
I’ve feeling very amped, this music is so soothing
Spit so funny skitzo, runnin’hits GO DUNNY!
Tryin to get mo money like a Cuban military camp funded by sick folks
And the list goes (eeeeevvvveeeeryybody)
Trying to speak out for peace, deleted, believe it
(I’ll get reported somewhere tonight)
Still undefeated
We went from, supported to subordinate, can’t afford it, ordered
My motherland smothered and mortared, morbid, at borders
I’m sorted out from beardless cats that boarded the plane as I was boarding,
Then detained, I can’t call it
Mic check when they search my Jordans, it hurts like mourning so…
(Pump pain and oil whillle they muurrdaah)
Somethings I’m unsure of
Like an Arab man at an airport
When you wonder what he’s there for, therefore
I stand up for lands stuck, near war in tandem,
Passport control, where I’m picked at random, DAMN SON!
(Evvvveeeerybooodyyyy)
Feels safer than we do, your plots are see through
(I get recorded, somewhere they spppppyyy)
Get the truth EQ’d