As I stand here before you, awaiting your sentence I can’t help but ask; Who are you to demand my repentance? Four hundred years and then some, I built this land, toiled the soil but never once was I allowed to reap the spoils, and you‘ve got the nerve to be appalled at the outcome? If anything I should be in your place Your robe, with your gavel with you standing before me all jump-suited and shackled. For all the crimes you’ve committed against me; the chains, the whips the rape of my queens, the hangings from the tree… It’s amazing I didn’t snap sooner! Your oppression transformed me from a chanting shaman to a negro spiritual crooner waiting on a chariot to swing low… and you wonder why I struck back with such a mighty blow. So, as I stand here awaiting your sentence I can’t help but ask; Who are you to demand my repentance? I’ve asked for forgiveness from the one whose home welcomes no wickedness. I’ve been assured of my place in the hereafter that scowl you see… is just my way of disguising the laughter…. Ohh what a celebration it will be when your crimes are brought to light for all to see by the way…. There’ll be an Angel standing next to Peter, he’s the witness for the prosecution…ME “I just heard news of a brotha I grew up with being denied parole. He knocked a policeman out during an attempted arrest. They needed to call 6 officers to do a minor traffic stop, my guy got spooked by all the boyz in blue, and with fear on his back, he Flipped-out. Just needed to vent on how I long for that day when the script will be justly flipped on this crooked as “Criminal Just-US” system.