The barrio starts two streets over
Miguel, he’s a friend of mine
With brick weed built a reputation
Like dry ice in the summertime
Now all you need is an electric razor
A magic bullet in a grassy knoll
The whole world is just a little oyster
To snow white and the poison apple leaves

I woke up in the age of wires
I fell asleep at the dusk of man
Now I’m cold (...?...)
Fingers crossed in the promised land

But you won’t be getting in
No you won’t be getting in
No you won’t be getting in
All souled out
In heaven

The barrio starts two streets over
Monsay, she’s a friend of mine
Keeps a piece like a whistleblower
Flying kites in the wintertime
Magic carpet is the transportation
Went to the moon in a soda can
Not all my boys believe in science
Stretching truth in the promised land

But you won’t be getting in
No you won’t be getting in (you know by now)
No you won’t be getting in (you know by now)
It’s souled out
In heaven

You know by now
That you won’t be getting in
No you won’t be getting in (you know by now)
No you won’t be getting in (you know by now)
It’s souled out
In heaven

No, you won’t be getting in
To heaven (you know by now)
To heaven (you know by now)
To heaven (you know by now)