Haroon Moghul May 11, 2003
Tags: Hope
A conifer or a deciduous,
It’s got roots, it shoots – he scores,
3 2 1: Good God everyone, ground zero,
Why’s this terrorist here a hero?
Call Mr. Analyst, the Zionist,
But he don’t know what to say,
He choked! Look what you did,
Made
O’Reilly look like a little kid.
It’s just FOX News, media fantasy,
A story, baloney... it’s hypocrisy,
He’s live, stuck outta luck,
Like a sock in a stinky shoe,
The laces tied too tight, what’s he gonna do?
There’s nowhere to go, no hope for air flow.
Suck it up buttercup,
Yeah I can say that,
Cuz I wear my hat forwards
Like a white man, though I’m an A-si-an,
We who lack identity, just suburbia superficiality,
Criss-cross philosophy, mish-mash mentality,
A tisket, a tasket, a Protestant casket,
We brown people, we never conquer anyone,
Hell I never even owned a gun
But shhh! Don’t tell anyone.
Lest they get the best of us
And turn dangerous
A black man might as well be from Mars
He’s like a virus, make you sick like SARS
Speaking ebonic, might as well be bubonic.
They’re contagious, everything they say sounds so good,
Knock on wood,
Little Haroon: Do you wanna end up in poverty?
But that’s not fair, we get so much
And for them it isn’t such
I drove through Harlem, I can talk to you about the problem:
Not enough money!
Quiet honey, act like the cat got your tongue,
The doorbell rung,
We ran out the other door, why but it’s the FBI
No reports, just deportations,
Don’t be shy, he says, I got some questions, sir
Well enter, mister,
I just wanted some answers.
It’s got roots, it shoots – he scores,
3 2 1: Good God everyone, ground zero,
Why’s this terrorist here a hero?
Call Mr. Analyst, the Zionist,
But he don’t know what to say,
He choked! Look what you did,
Made
It’s just FOX News, media fantasy,
A story, baloney... it’s hypocrisy,
He’s live, stuck outta luck,
Like a sock in a stinky shoe,
The laces tied too tight, what’s he gonna do?
There’s nowhere to go, no hope for air flow.
Suck it up buttercup,
Yeah I can say that,
Cuz I wear my hat forwards
Like a white man, though I’m an A-si-an,
We who lack identity, just suburbia superficiality,
Criss-cross philosophy, mish-mash mentality,
A tisket, a tasket, a Protestant casket,
We brown people, we never conquer anyone,
Hell I never even owned a gun
But shhh! Don’t tell anyone.
Lest they get the best of us
And turn dangerous
A black man might as well be from Mars
He’s like a virus, make you sick like SARS
Speaking ebonic, might as well be bubonic.
They’re contagious, everything they say sounds so good,
Knock on wood,
Little Haroon: Do you wanna end up in poverty?
But that’s not fair, we get so much
And for them it isn’t such
I drove through Harlem, I can talk to you about the problem:
Not enough money!
Quiet honey, act like the cat got your tongue,
The doorbell rung,
We ran out the other door, why but it’s the FBI
No reports, just deportations,
Don’t be shy, he says, I got some questions, sir
Well enter, mister,
I just wanted some answers.
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