A 1980 exodus of a hundred and twenty-five thousand dreams
A quest to find out what freedom really means at any cost
Boatloads of Cubans lost in a maze of red tape, and hate
Entered this country through the bottom of the United States
And straight, set up shop
As Arthur McDuffy was being beaten to death by four white cops
This world was about to face the music
Between El Mariel and the 1980 riots, we as minority Americans
Could no longer take our freedom for granted and misuse it
Because in case y'all haven't noticed, we've gone from the El Mariel boatlift
To the Hurricane Katrina buslift with the same response
With America standing to help us with one hand on their hips and the other one on her guns
Like 9-11 somehow made us all Americans
But it took a tragedy to make us all feel like we were one
You see the El Mariel boatlift, Hurricane Katrina
And the Oklahoma bombings, we all got something in common
And that's the desire to enjoy a freedom that cannot be rearranged by fear
To let nothing stand in the way of the freedom of those who chose to live here
So, today, is 1980 again
And I'm that bus that crashed through the gates of the Peruvian embassy
Hope that when I spit this poem, the whole world will remember me
I'm screamin like Sincaid give us us us free, me, Pitbull, and this industry
Will Da Real One, I'm out
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