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lirik lagu post 9-11 kids – aria

since 01 the rubble has covered the sun
rush and rummage as we covet to say that we won
we all absorb the media, that sh-t just makes us dumb
please distinguish between humans and a f-cking sponge
the grid is loose i grip the stupid sh-t i do for fun
aggression from contenders who might blow me with their gun
i slowly had begun, to hoping i was one
young individual to literally outrun
the clouded ounce of racism that put them in a stump
typical to the grid to give me metropolis dump
cognitive of the monsters breath
as the towers pause against the concrete and the populace
felt all of the vomit that was clogging my esophagus
white kids talking all this sh-t and there’s really no stopping it
i’m white too but your family worships prophets that force them to swallow hatred
the muslims k!ll to be sacred
see all the sh-t i was faced with?

post 9-11 kids
see no evil we just see the sh-t for what it is
a bunch of politics and proper and impoverished cliques
quick to trip a lot of rich and follow hollow tips of death
post 9-11 kids
see no evil we just see the sh-t for what it is
a bunch of politics and proper and impoverished cliques
quick to trip a lot of rich and follow hollow tips of death

first generation iranian, ten years
didn’t know what kind of world that i would be rhyming in
i’m climbing in, now i’m popping klein a pin
i once fasted for ramadan but i was too embarr-ssed that sh-t had just k!lled my confidence
the consequence of being muslim, middle school, dodging sh-t
turn on t.v monitors, the secret worlds of middle eastern continents
doc-mented, doctrinated problematic comments
islamaphobia, tears and fears, since the sodium distorted dystopia
popping opium hope [?] notice i rose above the phony f-cks
unfold poems, pulling out my nucleus
smokes cold in corneas and we are all still dubious
smoking doobies waiting for you to take a hit
fusion with the foolishness
loosen up your stools, let your sh-t catch a breath
little did i know of death, three thousand put to rest
now i hear spirits beating against my chest

the city’s f-cked, play that pity game or play along
plain surfaces, the plane hit through the pentagon
slice the towers, the final hours, the minutes left
like the sh-t we vexed is next to gone
the city’s f-cked, play that pity game or play along
plain surfaces, the plane hit through the pentagon
slice the towers, the final hours, the minutes left
like the sh-t we vexed is next to gone
the city’s f-cked, play that pity game or play along
plain surfaces, the plane hit through the pentagon
slice the towers, the final hours, the minutes left
like the sh-t we vexed is next to gone

- aria

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