I'm Not A Threat Unless Your A Threat To Me
“I’m Not A Threat, Unless Your A Threat To Me”
Why can’t you just let me be
Why are you offended when I decide to take a knee
Why can’t, you see, why we, seem to disagree
Police Bru-tal-ity
A thing that must be foreign to thee
Something that apparently, never popped up in your vocabulary
The phrase you skipped over in the dictionary
You chose to cut off our knowledge, left us limbless, an amputee
Blowing us up, with no hesitation, while holding down the control key
You know who holds the answers, but you choose to leave us empty
You feel, it must be, that every person with pigment in their skin, should live a life with no guarantee
Dancing around our hanging bodies, stringing us up, left there to bleed
And swing from trees
Knowing we cannot breathe
We can never truly be free
Until someone steps up and isn’t ready to just give up and flee
But what is in-timi-dating
Is you stay guarded, like the russian navy
You sip on our pain, like afternoon tea
Gathering us together in ghettos, like mixology
You act very sweet, like a sugar snap pea
While in act-ual-ity
Your the one with no college degree
But lucky for you an education isn’t necessary for you to get ahead
It’s the crispness of your pure white ancestors skin that originally
Brought us to the Caribbean Sea and held us in captivity
Locking us up in cages like animals, with little sen-sua-lity
Spreading your white disease, with the swiftness of a silver jubilee
But systematically, that’s not what you choose to show us on TV
You would rather talk about our chances of contracting Hepatitis B
You fail to inform us, how to truly obtain an academic degree
Instead you buzz false rumors around our heads,
Like an africanized-honey bee
Apparently, you can now reconize and aceept homo-sexuality
But it’s still a problem when you come across a person with darker skin than me
Consistently, stripping us of our culture over many centuries
Your use of idiosyncrasy
Is what truly amazes me
Picking off the fruits of our labor, as one off a banana tree
And yet still, you expect me, to somehow salute thee
When thee is the one making my people flee
We rebel, we riot, we cry, we must die
But you rebel, you riot, you cry, the government smiles
For my name is Trin-i-ty
Don’t you ever forget or undermine me
That name has letters that go up to seven,
Seven is what i’m reppin,
Seven plus 5 equals 12,
And 12 is what keeps sending my people to heaven.