Immortal Technique - The Getaway lyrics

Yo, yo, son, give me that newspaper!
Yeah, aight, here you go!
Man, I hate this one, yo you know
The post is
Always on some bias racist bullshit
Man word, I mean, on The Daily News
(Laughs) Word, I feel you
They ridiculous, man times are better
But they still on some bullshit!
(Laughs) I know that, man (Hiss)
Another nigga killed by these fucking cops
Yo! What? Word? Psh
See, that's why I gotta get
The fuck outta here, man i need some peace
I need something like that or I'ma
Just start blastin' these fucking pigs
Man! I feel you, son (laughs)
For real, yo! Yo, son, fuck it then
Let's do somethin', man
Let's see some mamis out there!
You know what? Matter of fact, pack the bags
Aight then! Start the fucking whip up!
I'm outta here, yo, for real!

Yo, I hate my job
So I always look to a better day
Far from New York City on a tropical getaway
But not in Miami
‘Cause these white Cuban anti-Castro's
Can't stand me
And that's the reason I'll never win
A fixed up Latin Grammy
After this racist Latinos'll goddamn me
But my black people love me
And when I go to South America
People be tryna hug me
‘Cause I talk about reality that effects them
And even though I blew up
I could never neglect them
What kind of a revolutionary
Action would that be?
I be categorizing practically every other MC
But never that, ‘cause I'm
Clever with facts, sever your raps
Fake players and thugs will forever be whack
I'm still rollin' with my
Squadron heavily strapped
And even if I get killed
I'll inevitably be back
Encyclopedia Hispanica over digital dat
Don't ever compare me with
Small-minded criminal cats
I kill kids on tracks, like Dale Earnhardt
Spit in your face and leave your
Cheekbone with a burn mark
I was born a genius
But I learned to be street smart
My vacation just started
I'm out to the Caribbean
Swimmin' in Dominican women the
Color of cinnamon
You mothafuckers wish you had the
Lifestyle I'm livin' in
East Coast to West Coast
And everything in between
This is dedicated to everybody
Chasing their dreams
This ghetto fabulous life really
Ain't what it seems but I'ma make it
‘cause I got survival stuck in my genes

Word up (Word) Immoral Technique
Representing Harlem
All the way out to my fam, in Englewood
I'm out, mothafucker!
(Laughs the ghetto way, nigga)