Look at my face, peep the physique, a big black man, I bet he's an athlete. A bouncer, a dealer, or maybe you see, former inmate 46t883. I bet the last place you thought was the library, Now I get the gazes, the prolonged looks at me. Reading is disdained, like knowledge got us shook, our existence is farce, I found truth in books. But I'm not saying vocab makes one legit, sublime works the same way as dope as ****. But reading is stigmatized within my nation, nice to see nothings changed, since the masters plantation. In the modern cesspool, ignorance is the rule, conformity championed, inquiry ridiculed. Wise up you fools, your being made into tools, that repair and sustain a system that enchains, demeans, misleads, suppresses the brain. But **** I forgot, real ****** pack gloc, bust shots at their brethren to hold down their block. Don't got time for the books, man thats not a good look, plus my stomach keeps grumbling so there's crack to cook. This ain't up for dispute, we all need to get loot, but everybody can't rhyme so most hustle and shoot. A new generation upholding massa's command, the old record stays spinning like Jim Crow we dance. But I refuse to succumb to statistics and figures so I'll politely retort with, "these nuts *****." Increasing intelligence disrupts the mold, they are all to aware of the potential we hold. If white equals smart then you seem to forget every race has its ignorant, be they vatos or rednecks. Centuries of displacement have yielded misguided, nearsighted and vain, staunchly divided, plotting and scheming for all you've been shown, is that dreams are within reach, the lighter the skin tone. Melanin has determined our present condition so we black men are left with too few decisions, success for our race follows a narrow line: cook rocks, spit rhymes or you got some nasty hang time. In the 21st century we're a new breed of slave, the sun is outside yet we stay in the cave, crushed and impeded, taught to behave, being locked up like this, who needed the chains? This whole ****** up game is all part of the plan, to corrupt, exploit and vaporize the black man. But there is still time, to halt our demise, stand up, become conscious we must organize. I'm bitter and angry so I won't act coy, born into a system for which I'll die to destroy. You may sit back and watch, remain idle and tame, I'll spark the match, more will fan flames. The redemption of my people, is all that I seek I'm not sure about y'all but this is what I believe: I am the untapped rage of the african slave, all the pride and dignity of when his ancestors reigned, with the goal of levelling unequal terrain, the racists worst enemy: a ***** with a brain.
Ooo-whee!...Brotha, you are on FIYA up in heah! This piece reminded me of Carter G. Woodson's words in "The Mis-Education of the Negro" (Sad to see that they are just as relevant today as they were in 1933)>>>> “If you can control a man's thinking you do not have to worry about his action. When you determine what a man shall think you do not have to concern yourself about what he will do. If you make a man feel that he is inferior, you do not have to compel him to accept an inferior status, for he will seek it himself. If you make a man think that he is justly an outcast, you do not have to order him to the back door. He will go without being told; and if there is no back door, his very nature will demand one.”