What I see is this strange space

Is a family full of grace

It is divided black and white everyday

But every once in the blue moon they like to prey.

And we have to pray

With battle wounds on the face

Where the strongest survive

And only a select few make it out alive

Either because they have a secret place to hide.

Or they know how to duck around corners, and avoid getting their hands tied.

On many nights I have thought to get mine, and run towards the north.

But I never done it, because Massa is always on patrol, walking back and forth.

And look at me, even though I am not tall enough

And I can’t run long enough.

But I can sing our songs and stuff.

But one of these days I know.

I’m going to have to get rough.

Because they gon ask me to reproduce and I’m not gon want to because that’s not what I do.

They don’t need to know that but at the same time I am not going to be rude.

Because the ass-whooping my sister received the other day, I don’t understand how she is still here…. She got beat like a goddamn dude.

They expect us to be prude but they expect us to clean their dirt

I ain’t gon lie, that right there….it hurts

You never know when you are going to be next.

Next to be tied, raped, beat, whipped, or even eradicated.

But I’m only telling you how it feels from the inside looking out.

Just know the basement of the schoolhouse is about to be the new wave in the south.

Oh lort Massa coming!

Can’t let a peep come out of my mouth!

Just know pretty soon I will be in the north, because before I witness another beating, I will most definitely realize my worth!