Picture this
I’m in the midst of sleep on a new unmade bed in SLC
This had to be a dream
I’m still walking down the streets of Philly with my brothers and sisters beside me
Too good to be true
Instead I woke up in a new bed in a new world with a new head
Slowly learning to clap for this community that isn’t thinking about bread
You know dough, that money, like being fly and getting honeys
But not for the young dudes who don’t disrespect their mothers but disrespect the brothers
Don’t bite the hand that feeds you but bite the one that greets you.
The old school kids, the dudes with Tims,
Wait what his name is Tim?
No, he’s black it could be anything.
Actually it was Parker.
Would it shock you to know that a black kid’s name could be Parker? Or Brock? Or any name carved in the stone wall of white race?
We’re not new here.
New to the block and you, but not here.
Where? A world of fear.
I know I’m not new
I got a different do and some cool shoes with not so foolproof crew
Just me myself and I don’t need no friends, no man, no people to make amends and compensate for this little hate nestled inside me for those who don’t get to know.
Get to know our areas, believe it or not there are people out there whose only culture is bacteria.
All I ask is to not look offended when we talk about things you don’t understand.
If I’m talking about dashikis, don’t ask me if I said Rafiki and assume you know me because Lion King took place in Africa.
Not all of Africa is lions and tigers and well, no bears.
Take a day to step out of your comfort zone and learn about Zulu Nation, the Black Panthers, Malcolm X. Listen to A Tribe Called Quest and The Fugees.
There is more to black people than what is considered trap music.
Though there are multiple flavors in trap, we are not all that bland.
All I know is we are Black By Popular Demand.