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chyno – ballad of an exodus lyrics


they want oil for food, give em food for thought
they wanna play in the kingdom of god
so let me take them to the kingdom of god

[verse 1]
my body on a, bench in barcelona’s, paseo pic-sso
cuz this my blue period, my mind travels to damascus corners
tagging walls in bab tuma, manifesto for a new syria
this is my magnum opus
shahrazade’s gift of gab that kept the sultan’s focus
a thousand one nights, awake outside my country’s borders
insomnia, f-ck it i will not consult my conscience
my guilt is not important, anyways i can’t afford it
yeah, my homie told me get out of your comfort zone
i took it as a metaphor for me to go back home
for what? to go to war? for who? these over lords
f-ck you! i’ll drink this sorrow off and down this molotov
c-cktail, hot d-mn, that’s hot, fresh out the press
yeah, i got mail, last month, inbox filled up with texts
“the old milk shake, store that we use to chill with our friends
the one in sha3lan, just got bombed inshallah we won’t be next”
lords of the ring of fire, for them to stand by us
soldiers need to be bias
follow leaders who pretend to be pious
whatever options we’ve chosen there’s always denial
muddy waters, we all taking a dive
tryna make it out alive soldiers fleeing the war
teachers turn into warriors
children turn into teachers
experience becomes their tutorial
the war zone their emporium
they visit everyday exploring their limits
while mothers sleepless when her sons mourning comes
i give a shit who is victorious
break down the opium, then brand my dopeness
this is my magnum opus

what’s a magnet opis? what’s a magnet opis?

it’s magnum opus. it means great work
what’s a magnet opis? what’s a magnet opis?
i’m afraid they’re not gonna make it back
what’s a magnet opis? what’s a magnet opis?
it’s magnum opus. it means great work
what’s a magnet opis? what’s a magnet opis?
what? you can’t die

[verse 2]
give ’em death and shock ’em back to life, all clear
jean paul gaultier, could bottle up this cold air
modern day voltaire trapped inside this vault here
holding edward snowden’s folders chilling on arm chair
rocking back and forth, waiting for the chauffeur
i’ll go to war, but please take me to the show first
they tell you no, you p-ss eighteen, we need your grow spurt
here’s a jacket, here’s your boots, hold this heat cuz its a cold world
mira, chico and chic, ask condoleeza
why these emb-ssies don’t give me no visa
look, i’m educated and my mother’s filipina
but your p-ssport says syria, so you don’t fit our criteria
oh, vale, ma3le, i’ll take ’em to the valley
beqaa and that’s exactly the opposite of cali
hasheesh inside these baggies, i stash ’em inside my pants
no baggy, these pants are saggie cuz i smuggle through sirwali
libnani and afghani, rolled up with a shami
you can say that joint is the bomb, but it’s funded by rouhani
-ssad got the iranis, and baghdadi got the saudis
but me i got this p-ssport and nobody wanna stamp me

the one’s who stay say in god they trust
the one’s who run become blasphemous
take their stories and become amb-ssadors
it’s the ballad of an exodus


well i was only describing what i saw