Text: P.O.Box. ... And The Lipstick Traces. Look What You Have Done.

Sick of hearing you, ranting about goddamn bullshits.
It's fucking time to reaffirm that we don't share
the same goddamn opinion.
We'll never let you go; we'll never let them die.
We're not the ones that you'll pretend;
we'll fight for more until the fucking end.
Be prepared for our badass revolution,
we got enough power for the badass ignition.
Let's take a goddamn look to what you have done.
They are not your slaves, look what you have done.
You must integrate yourself, live as I tell you to,
go where I tell you to, eat what I tell you to.
You little white do you live in ghetto? Wash with a basin?
Why don't you understand they don't miss you when you leave?
Give them money to feed their family, far from a wage.
How the hell can you sleep without nightmares?
You don't treat them as human beings,
you who earn twice more than what you would earn here
whereas there you have half less needs.
They are not your slaves, look what you have done.
Got it right, got it less, we don't care, it's a mess,
everything you're telling us is lie.
Pill them up in public housings or in deportation rooms,
then you expel them, so how the hell can you pretend to be their bro?
You don't share anything with them, don't share their misery,
don't you understand? Useful to tell you should agree
and accept that you're not the Man, just a man,
and that man, ain't a MAN. Do we have to remind you, little white,
that we're not the same? it's not a shame!
Little white you're no god.
They are not your slaves, look what you have done.
Want some more, there you go, be back for the solo,
everything you're telling us ain't fine.
You say they're not like us, I say you're not like us.
You say they must evolve, I say we must revolt.
Everyone has a culture, everyone some traditions,
everyone a way of life, and everyone is different,
and that makes our world not yours.
They are not your slaves, look what you have done