I hear God in the pained pleas of a race misrepresented
And single mothers blessing sons as they send them off to orphanages
Or rather daycare centers and public plantations
Of the mass programming of government -slaves-, and
I’m expressing my “behave” in 16’s of -redemption-
Redeeming a lost race through the strength of the inkpen
So, if convicts and liars can speak for my race
Than I’m an ambassador from God, blind from lookin at his face
So I can’t see your race, see through your lies and speak revenge, then
We’ve been deceived by the Serpent to think that black requires -repentance-!
Repopulate your memory banks with physical blanks
So that, even when guns fire, you’re reminded of why we’re -great-
Ricochet between generations and missing pages
From middle passage traveling on ghost-skin slave ships
With foes missing souls who would seek to enslave men
My history and ancestry’re re-forged through every statement

I try to tell them that sometimes it’s not as simple as all that
And sometimes you have a dig a bit to find the -real- facts
And sometimes the truth is just out of sight or under cover
So tough love is exposing the foolish and pulling back the covers
To display the nakedness of Pharaoh’s new suit
You see, I was -born- with the ingenuity they’re selling to you!
They keep tryin to tell me -not- to reach for the sun
As though I were Icarus with wax wings. Haven’t you seen Olympics? We -run-!
I tell them I was -born- dark from staring at the Son’s face
And I’m tired of using Jesse Owens to run the human race
I’m so tired of athletic stereotypes,
That I’m yelling “stop the presses!” to reset the type
And - use the organization of the -first- world power
To rewrite the world with the first paper’s power
Scratching prophetic scriptures on papyrus scraps
Handing them down through generations and redressing them as -rap-

Using the sophistication of -slaves- to redress the human race
Til everybody got “ghetto soul”, trynna dress like my face
So tired of ostracized style, speech, and race
That we re-sold “blackface” to former masters and took their place!
Now -their- kids try to strut with the limp of hurt slaves
And sag jeans like pants denied a belt in the cage
So if you believe in evolution, then I have evolved to fly higher
With light pockets, black cards, all-around envied choirs and
The Cradle of Civilization locked somewhere in my soul
The Birth of Creation in my feet…you should watch me go!
It looks like I’m convinced that I’ve captured the rhythm of the universal dance
Stamp my feet, to crush a style. Snap fingers, to create a dance
Krumpin like David catchin the spirit of the Lord, shoutin
“The second-largest continent couldn’t contain my people”, we bout it
We ‘bout risin above. Livin dreams, and truth shoutin
Look – we took twenty-eight days, and birthed a -president- out of it!

We -Major-!!!