Fingers cut bills in front of him Faces page a mess

This country he make amends For his sins

And the war on the poor Tell me how much was the ride

To bring his body back Was it based on the weight?

He sends his bag Money

To his family Wedding, honey, daddy

Driving his taxi Tell me what was the price

Of the casket engraved Carried by his brothers

Every night is a risk Skipped on your jokes

Standing by the pump Holding the gas

Tell me how big was the hole They left in the back of his head

As big as his eye In death he is blind

Born in Bangladesh Made in America

Bleeding, waiting, waiting Waiting, waiting to be buried

Tell me, where is the shooter? Has he already waited his due?

Tell me, where are the children? Lessons of hate Lessons this guilt

Lessons of hate Lessons of guilt

Lessons this hate Lessons this guilt

Lessons this hate Lessons this guilt

full you know what happens to the prison if they don't keep it full their

motherfuckers get fined bro they get a fine if they don't keep the fucking

prison full they get a fine that's a fact and that's where they want to keep

motherfuckers so they hire all these assholes and make them get on the street

and do some crazy shit and that's what's gonna happen