Wall (DJ Static Remix)

Breez Evahflowin’ ft. El Juba - “Wall (DJ Static Remix)”
[Emcee(s): El Juba and Breez Evahflowin’]
[Producer(s): DJ Static]

[Verse 1: El Juba]
My views are my own, my blues are my own
My crew chop, schools scatter. Said, “I just came home”
Riders blockage like Fidel or [?]. The cow
Flew on the moon ‘til I found my voice and my true cool
I’m true-school, alpha, and omega, the parts on the paper
The darkest of thoughts, lightest of hearts, Ellison’s
Rinehart. The magical real for Gabrielle
They write about my daughter as well. To her, I would tell
The worst of my sins as sort of cautionary tale just
Like Lucky did with me since the day that I could spell
Never made the same mistakes twice. He gave me a cross
To bear. All us are off of the chair ‘cause somewhere
In America are Jubas who confused why they’re suffering. Is it
God don’t love ‘em? Or ‘cause life on Earth is worth nothing?
You know I tear you up with pop hits and dance
Tunes, but I want you ready—go to get your chair
Soon. All my homies, I told ‘em watch the sky to see
You tripping. I looked to the stars and said, “Goodbye, goodbye
Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye, goodbye, goodbye
Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye, goodbye, goodbye
Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye, goodbye, goodbye
Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye, goodbye, goodbye”

[Hook: Breez Evahflowin’ and El Juba]
Build a wall, kill ‘em all
Build a wall, kill ‘em all. Hey, hey!
Build a wall, kill ‘em all. Hey, hey!
Build a wall, kill ‘em all. Hey, hey!
Build a wall, kill ‘em all. Hey, hey!
Build a wall, kill ‘em all. Hey, hey!
Build a wall, kill ‘em all. Hey, hey!
Build a wall, kill ‘em all. Hey, hey!

[Verse 2: Breez Evahflowin’]
Build a wall, kill ‘em all
North American. This on some arrogance
Ignores it all and only calls its own soil “American”
Some claim they need to see votes to know what’s happening
It’s happening now, to be specific. Intriguing—at
The same time, horrific. This monolithic montage
Of politics blah-blah, you swallow it—glob, glob
Then get robbed. Cycle repeat—proof positive
The more you repeat any process, the product depletes
That’s the knowledge. Drug dealers are proud of
Thugs and even prowlers—no, switch up your shit. At least
Add a tune to it, that Kennedy “we’re going to the
Moon” to it. Instead, it got a hint of doom to it
I zoom-zoom to it. That darkness that I
Remember from the womb fluid, I held it like I
Was immune to it. That “crush, kill, devour” or
“Flower and bloom” to it. I grew attuned to it
Now have to make the music and use it to navigate
A room through it