Wesley’s Theory brought me here due to the pain

In my heart everyday of being mistreated.

Can’t play rap at work

Can’t sing

All they want is a greeting.

But don’t smile too hard

That means you’re up to something

But don’t frown

Cuz that means you’re worth nothing.

 

A frown means the shackles are still on

It means the ghettos will be full

And the rapes will continue.

 

It is the staple of our culture

The signature

The main reason we’re still dying.

We’re violent, dumb, we’re thieves

And yet, we’re not the only ones lying.

 

Niggers, oops I meant thug

Since that is the new word to say.

 

 

In the 60’s it was boxing

In the 80’s it was track

But now the only reason for concern

Is when a nigga lies on his back.

He’s the hustler, the earner,

As the owner watches from the press box.

 

His prized possession

Injured on a vicious hit

But he’s already on the phone to find another.

As the player gets up he looks to the stands

And sees his heartbroken mother.

He doesn’t remember seeing her though,

On account of the hit he just suffered.

He makes his way back to the locker room,

Thinking every player is his brother.

Media session is done and the protocols have been made.

Owner comes to visit after a few weeks

He tells the player of a trade.

 

You’ll be the star on this team, he says

You can get a fresh start

 

No longer dizzy

The player looks at his skin

All black and dark brown.

The owner wants him to smile

 

But he only conjures up a frown.