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American Terrorist II

Artist:Lupe Fiasco 

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Through the fire, smoke, and broken rubble Walks the secret life, bullet-proof and bulging muscle Death-defying, highest flying over trouble Can you please come and help us out our hopeless struggles? Sympathy is wearing off and dying out In the face of all these enemies and crying out Losing all this energy from finding out The world is filled with ills, ever so close to timing out Where, are those heroes? Where, are those super-heroes? Pondering, that super-villain's got a point Told the captain on the roof while they was smoking joints Flicked the ashes down into the street below Looked up, said he hate the city now, even though He swore that he'd protect it when he landed Their perspective's now changed, all pretty much abandoned The captain spray cologne around and said he understand it It's getting hard to separate the saints from the satanic Where, are those heroes? Where, are those super-heroes? Last remarks, they did it to themselves I killed off heaven, now I live in hell So complicit in their own non-survival

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