They've been boxin’ us in

Never know who to fight

The system’s making the struggle while they stay out of sight

Underpaid and overworked just to eat tonight

You needed diaper bags, but your pockets lookin’ light

They ain't give us a choice on how we choose to decide

If I can't pay for this shit, I’ll steal it to provide

I brought my kids in this world, I ain't gone let 'em die

Forcing us to keep a child but can't help us survive

The cost of a living life

They're pushing the drive

Want to see a sacrifice before they'll see us inside

Only giving supplies that can cause a divide

Banking on a homicide so they can buy off our pride

 

All these ignorant fucks would blame it on the people

In a fictional land, proclaimin’ that we're equal

No fear of freedoms being taken

They can live out their youth while I sleep in a cell ‘cause they planted the proof

Things ain't never changed except for written words

They would find it absurd ‘cause it's a written verse

Took away all the slaves and added prison merch

Make sure they can't escape and make ‘em get to work

Who needs CCTV? They give it out for free

Postin’ death unswept with full identity

They're only harder on crime with skin darker than mine

Could choke you out without a house and declare that it's fine

You've been sold on the product by a tool that's been paid because you think the corporate ladder starts at minimum wage

A false sense of a hope unopposed to the greed

Locked inside a glass dome got you thinkin’ you're free

 

 

They be hatin’ the art that's on some gangsta shit

Use it as a tool so they can try to blame some shit

Pearl clutching over words or the tamest shit

Unless the hero's tinted white, then they claim the shit

It seems they like it more when they see us down or in chains

The films with the biggest praise got us seeing the pains

They only hearin’ us speakin’ like we're Furious 

They love it when we're serious

The ghetto life experience

Their favorite move is to read up on the literature then talk to black folks and ask if we really sure

If we don't fit the black mold, they'll white wash it with bleach or call us fake when we code switch whenever they speak

They’ve flooded the streets where peace is now nevermore

Bodies buried under what they call a reservoir

It seems like, to me, we're at an impasse

We can only be disgust by the contrast

We draw the short stick when you make comparisons

All these tall tales make a black American