| As i look up at the sky, | |
| I wonder why my momma always cried, | |
| Was it for how fast we lived and died? | |
| Or because we never got our piece of the pie? | |
| Busting at the seams, the american dream, | |
| Like meth said cream, boulevard of broken dreams, | |
| Parents with good intentions never mention, | |
| The brooklyn house of detention. | |
| Free to fly, and free to try, to get our peace before we die, | |
| Free to fly, and free to try, to get our piece of the pie and die. | |
| Locking us down, we got cops all around, | |
| The sound of sirens drown your own heart's pound, | |
| But you only wanted a piece of the pie, | |
| And in your mind's eye momma's still gonna cry, | |
| No matter how hard you tried, whether it's truth or lies, | |
| On the day that you die...but we're free to fly, | |
| And free to try to get our piece of the pie and die. | |
| Freedom, liberty, the kkk, modern democracy, we have no say, | |
| American dream, the american way, land of the free, home of the slave. |
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