Justice is the sound of a round hitting terrorisim.
From the streets to the middle east in war i'm still livin'
I still sleep with one eye on the rest of the world.
Except no longer do i pitch bricks, it's gernades I hurl.
I'm not alone in my struggle it just seems that way.
No time for home, for i've been told it's for the free I stay.
The same free that reject me for the way I am.
Pass me up on the job for an under-qualified man.
Is it the tattoos? The music or even the color of my skin?
which of these do you choose to make me less of a man?
I have to shed blood, to prove myself?
I have to squeeze the trigger till there's no one left...? I'll do my best.
You do what you have to, to collect that check.
But when you cash it, please remember who had to risk their neck.
So you could continue living your life feeling free
praying that you never have to see what we see.