| She was so afraid of everything she said |
| Since her mother told her why once upon a time |
| There was no rhyme |
| Before the clock slammed another door |
| Of the weary hours we were facing a second hand Shylock |
| Shylocked in, in on us |
| I saw what it had taken |
| Playing back that old brigade of mine |
| Everything was dirty, everything was without rhyme |
| Everything was dirty, everything was without rhyme |
| 'Cause me and Nigga marched |
| Yes, me and Nigga blasted our way out of here |
| Blasted our way out of here |
| Just like yesterday |
| Yesterday’s streets were burnt down into shells |
| Mothers weep while children sleep |
| Like ancestors in the ground |
| The misery of nuns lie together like sons |
| Who do not have the taste for the battle |
| We are shuffled like a pack of cards in the dead of night |
| Like lovers below Bataan, below the senses |
| 'Cause the senses smell of tears |
| While we and Nigga marched |
| Blasted our way out of here |
| Close the door and let’s have some private life |