Everywhere we seem to be
there's a struggle to be free
in this land like a poverty tree
Hit by the black market fold
gas/electric/food rising bold
american game getting old
Jobs still on a level scale
scrappin fightin nowhere to bail
against supremacy & racism spell

Black market they call this tale
but in truth it's amerika market pail
the hole that continue to swell
Wall street /da monies beat
taken da dollar "crashing" word leak
a task seem noone can feat
How do we really live
when we so broken holds no shield

pose no unity on da real
left hungery without a meal
less we stand up grasp da peace to instill
use our black dollars and make deals
we now the black market of goals
people of change in a new mold
to uplift ourselves from da devils strong hold

we not trapped,we not mental enslaved
we not caged,we not afraid
we have taken all that they gave
we have stood da task of time
now we rise wit a new shine
black awareness market knowledge
our backyard is full of dirt
now facing this world of hurt
black market now our victory in da work

So many things being felt by most now, but we've felt these pains for years, like it's second nature. Will this experience we already know the taste of give us an upper hand. Perhaps it can. Speak on it brother poet, this is one to grow on.

rise wit me sister and let's join handz , minds and defeat our self nightmare of life
I can taste freedom just not able to see and feel it but da day is coming and near
thank u sister watz