Voices of a Forgotten History
Generations upon a time where history scarred itself a fucked up face
Peace travel down a rugged path and became lost in its own existence
We have become the cavities stretched into society's fangs
Consecrated in the decay of our bloodstained past
So now our slained traditions in my veins
And though the pain is been instrumental
We continue to walk to different beats
Because there is no fuckin' peace
See I discovered the word "Hmong" pasted on the back of a milk carton with no reward
Chugged down by cultural braggadocios oblivious to the fact there was nothing more
Than assimulated holes
Victims of white America's oppression
And though their aggression
Once sung glorified songs of death and revolution
The weight of a guns supporting tickling my spine*
So I choose to kill with my tongue