Free.dom

Round waves of conscience direction
stir me across radical stands
to political plans
gliding on equivocal winds of so.cial policy

is there another word for crime?
you see, in my lifetime I have seen
the unfortunate slaying of beautiful brown skinned humans,
their bodies mutilated and rancid, smelling foul of counterfeit justice
and highly impartial li.ber.ty

yo- I’m looking for a nice way to say
ain’t no body noticed
that we are the only ones with kids
that walk past crack heads and joogs to get to school-
and if they are 11 or older they already
decided that they don’t have to learn how to read to create babies to feed

and can’t no teacher teach if our kids won’t even sit down
social policy in this nation
has caused genocide and economic devastation

Note: We are killing ourselves.

an African man called me judgmental
because I want a clear separation
they passed the laws to limit my children’s education
and my people let them pass without examining proper documentation

we got so many maxed out credit cards in our pocket books
that voter’s registration never stood a chance
one nation under God, indivisible
but only to the glance

like my hair, excuse me- your braids, shades and fades
are unprofessional, please cut your mane, like I took your name

and Shaquanda was just another child whose mother was searching
for authenticity in an epithet
finding only complexity in the fact
that everyone knew before they saw
that Shaquanda was black

and that is precisely what I’m talking about
an entire race of people limited, prohibited, restrained, denied and convicted
labeled a low down dirty criminal, in every town we rebuilt we were evicted

like a bunch of bad kids, they took a race of people and restricted
growth, opportunity, creativity
hey, this may be new to you, but its old information to me

that the revolution is not over
and there’s a struggle to continue
a struggle with no venue
so get your Cristal, X and tree off your menu

and pick up a newspaper, or better yet, write your own newspaper
and tell the world and the nation that we ain’t niggas no more

we ain’t niggas no more

not that we ever were, so won’t somebody tell all my people
yell to my people, raise the heaven, the earth and the jail of my people
for the east side, west side and the dirty south to see

ain’t nothing changed until we act like we’re free.