Knuckles crack, what’s the sign?
No tarot cards or crystal balls, just watching.
Violence is knocking on my door.
I’m on the outside.
I’m moving closer to pills and steel so I can drive out fear.
It’s inside of me.
If I hold tight enough I can squeeze a few dollars out of this stick up kid game but I’m the only one getting played.
It’s all fake.
Games end, so what’s my end game?
If I trade in my pride is the cost too high?
My word is my bond, so when I put it on my momma that’s all I got.
Why bother to swear on my father?
I never knew him.
No hymns for my heartache.
Pews and prayers, past words from Pastor’s.
I’m looking for action, so that’s why I’m packin, heat or pushing packs, my back’s against the wall.
I haven’t seen miracles.
My hood never made it.
My block stays faded.
Shadows of tortured souls haunt me.
We were animals then, we’re animals now.
Chained under lock and key, ship or prison, slave or inmate.
Stripes on our back for stripes on our front.
3 strikes and I’m gone, that’s how real this game is.
No pity for the downcast man, I’d never take it.
Pity is poison, confirming what I desperately hope to be false.
Sips of grants from non-profit hands, you invest in my but won’t walk my streets.
So how much do you really care about this city?
Your checks are too big to make change.
Deficit thinking like I need you.
Nah, I’m straight.
You need me.
I feed your system.
I feed your prisons.
I’m either a budget increase or a disease.
Urban blight? War on drugs? War on poverty?
Bleach kills or it brightens, melanin destroyed or melanin lightened.
Either way who I am is washed away.
You can say mission accomplished, urban renewal, city revitalization, but it’s relocation and extermination.
We’re put away.
Trophies to be collected by owners and labels.
Tokens to be collected, as if I can be cashed in for your black card.
You need us.
Vibrant rhythms lace my being. My speech drives culture. We switch lanes at my leisure. Climbing the corporate ladder without creasing my sneakers.
They say the sky’s the limit but Jordan’s from Mars and Jackson moonwalks so don’t gawk at my swagger.
I’m badder than badder.
Opinions don’t matter.
When the pressure came this dust became a diamond.
Strength and beauty on display, coveted in every sphere.
We are the commodity.
Currency we bring people together with dreams of collard greens and waves that make you dizzy.
Each one of us expressing infinite possibilities of beauty and brilliance.
Daniel Hale Williams, Maya Angelou, Garrett Morgan, Dubois, Shirley Chisholm, just a few you might’ve forgotten because they didn’t keep you rocking, with beats and athletic feats.
Instead they shaped society, with hands strong from holding on so long.
So hold my hand little one, rest easy.
This American nightmare won’t last long.
When you make up you’ll be free.
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