Untitled
You expect us to stay docile in the face of oppression
To accept the death of our people without exception
You wish to see us stay quiet as our children lie wounded and bleeding
Is it a crime for sensing danger and to contemplate fleeing?
You expect to find crime in black hoods and black homes, but ignore the devils in white hoods and white robes
The cruelty seems to be far from discreet when a child’s blood runs down the street
We are kind and we are peaceful, but sooner or later we’ll be fed up with being seen as unequal
Your supremacy will soon fail, yes you, the structure that sent so many of us to jail
Our pain will not be reprised, the revolution will be televised, and soon the children of that revolution will rise
Our blood will no longer splatter and please believe we’re tired of hearing “all lives matter”
We’re tired of this deceiving and careless façade and tired of worshiping the white man’s God
And without a sliver of time to spend, we tell you now; your time has come to an end