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He wakes up. And starts to get ready for his day. He brushes his teeth Because is mama always said she wouldn’t let any son of hers go out with booty breath.
You will never know. Luckily you will never feel that shaking terror running through your veins like ice. You will never stare before you down the barrel of a gun
We are many shades lighter But carry the most darkness Complicit in the genocide Of those who look different
As a Black Man I was told that I am created equal After my first diploma, College was the obvious sequel However, I sit here questioning where I head Struggling to come up with a valid reason
Who We Are Imagine this Your ancestors living life free, No worries in the world, Until foreigner’s land in your city,
To my future son, Bringing you here is a challenge you see, not physically or financially but mentally. This should not be a part of my worries but you know it’s racism and police brutality.
In the midst of all darkness, you persist to be better, you persist to overcome adversity. Your conviction in hope allows you to believe in the inevitablity of infinity. After everything you have achieved,
To my dear black boy, I felt your body tense the moment the wailing of the siren rang in our ears
Red is dripping Hands once up are now down Black Coming in like a flood No ark is gon save me now. sirens of red and blue when all I wanna hear is silence
Sadness starts to reside in my heart
Where does it end?Where does the bloodshed of my brothers and sisters end?Freedom is non-existent in a world where our skin is not acceptedWe have no real rights because our race is rejected
Why must we Observe these bleeding bodies On the floorboards of restless ancestors Whose lives were tainted by the scoreboard of oppression? And we sit behind A phone and find
"One nation, Under God, Indivisible, With liberty, And justice for all." It's interesting how people believe that those words are not false;
Silence, The night sky is clear at this moment. Flash. DON’T MOVE YOU TWO! They are frozen, we are frozen.
A sigh, a groan, "Mom I don't wanna go!" Reluctance in my every step,Mumbling and grumbling under my breath, I shed my PJs and dress the boys, "Come on, lets go!" I snap I don't want to go.
I’m here on the scene With a crying black mother If you look to your left There’s a hoodie on the ground painted with blood Painted with bullet holes and red stains
To survive another day is a lifestyle; We don't live anymore, not when we have to keep our eyes open Because of the giant targets on our backs that have become a birthmark. Fight or flight sensitive at night;
Sometimes we treat dead bodies better than living ones But its not the same for me Because my life has been filled with gunshots from the people who are meant to protect me And now that im laying on the cold hard cement
In the Streets of America tonight Many hands of young students scrape the sky The colors of blue and red abrace their face As they endlessly march unguarded
We haven’t much to call our own. Not our eyes or our hair, or our X chromosome. Not our face or our fare, or the places we roam.
Fake men afraid to have real conversations Adverse persuasion Scared of world view revelations So the same hatin' going down in police stations
Another black man is killed Another trans kid commits suicide Another woman is sexually harassed Aren't we just statistics In the sadistic game of life?
Dear Ferguson, You should’ve never happened. To others, you came as a surprise. To some, you were a consequence. But to those that dwelled in the cracks of City sidewalks – Within the brick and mortar
So my identity is apparently the target on the balck dots for your gunsot. Wait let me rephrase myself, GUNSHOTS! And i say that in humility wit the hunger for justice that seems scarce in the streets of a coloured man's world.
Our poor, poor Queen. Folks say she’ll swallow you in one big gulp, But she cannot eat if she’s beaten to a pulp. Her nipples are swollen from her own ravenous descent, And corporate banks fuck her without consent.
Tragedy. Police pulling guns on the daily, to the heads of coloured men, and to the hearts of them, Bang Bang and they're gone just as fast as they came.
Brown skin, white palms, my hair is dark and always nappy I struggle to thrive in a world designed to keep me unhappy I go to school the teachers think that I'm breaking rules
When I tell my mom that I fear for the lives of the people who I hold dear to me , she asks why
Oh, say can you see by the dawn’s early darkness, surrounding me in this prison, killing me, What so proudly we hailed at the twilight’s last gleaming is our incredibly racist past,
I bet you’ll pull your gunwhen I speak upbut you won’t shootsimply because I look like you.
"The Land of the Free" Was written by White men As they fearlessly planted their feet on the black and brown bodies they burnt and bled to get there And did not stop to smell the irony
It funny how the CPD claims that every new hiring is a step closer to securityBut they’re not even securing us.Betty can look outside her suburban windows and see white snow on asphalt
Racism does not exist, says the well-off white man living on the hill Racism does not exist, Says the woman who had never been asked to drop her bag in the store
Making History Out Of What? What will history make of us? I think as I read of my peers Bringing toy guns to school And decorating the halls in blood
Suzie and Manny drive down the road. Suzie is light and Manny is dark. But they don’t mind as their hands hold. They make their way to the skate park As they hear a siren bold. Manny pulls over to remark
Every day I see not the land of the free Not here where children on the streets unkind beg for scraps Our government, the wolf in sheep’s clothing, giving the illusion of help
I Am American I am American, home of the brave and free, I am American, where dawns early light glints of the handgun cellphone, something in his pocket can't tell what it was BANG BANG BANG
I can’t sleep on the fourth of July. Not when fireworks sound like cracked whips and sparklers glisten like blood under a streetlamp.
Being born on US soil means your life has more value Hate special snowflakes, unless it’s Matthew One life is worth more than 80,000 so long as it’s Christian
Alls my life I has to fight... Alls my life I... been a modern slave with my chains decorated red, white, and blue. “An invisible black man”, through and through. Yet, my skin offends many;
Oh, say, can you see, blinded by the tear gas By the dawn's early light, shining through our body bags as we lay on the street, hitting our 3 hour mark What so proudly we hailed
Where I can walk down the street and get shot for being me Where people shout at the top of their lungs for me to leave their country Even though the border crossed me
A cloud of smoke suffocating this generation Drugs and Alchol seems to be the only way out of this rotation Flirting with depression and anxiety before we even flirted with compound words in our diary
They keep killing us Our protests go unanswered No one truly cares
What were you doing the night of August 28, 1955? How were you feeling on May 15, 1970? Where were you on March 3, 1991? What about on April 29, 1992? October 9, 2005?
Our country is dividing down the middle- So divided, it's crumbling. One side begs for justice, and their rights. They beg for it to stop-
A police woman gets her face smashed, Into a concrete curb By a drug intoxicated man She is terrified to shoot Police brutality has made her the victim She risks her life to not be criticized
Police brutality is a controversial issue that has been growing in significance in the United States.
What is the life of another boy worth? Should I question the importance of why, We suffer more loss on this planet called Earth? A brown skinned boy with ambitions to fly.
Each Night, I rub, I scrape and I fight. Each night I try to wash the pigment I cry as my skin begins to redden I can't take it off. All of a sudden I stop.
I said, "How long will it take?" I mean, we've seen the same mistakes Ain't it crazy after all this We're still waiting for change And the faces are the same The pain, it still remains
I never understood how a city could be divided in two. Nairobi City. The city of two. The rich and the poor too. This is where you succeed if you know who to talk to,
I sit, my phone is in my hand and my heart beating fast Captions says, Another Black Man Killed by Police A video is linked. The video starts.
Dear Police,Why don't you seeThat I'm not just a NiggaI'm an actual human being?Dear cop,Am I about to get stopped? I've got places to go. There's other people to knock.Dear 5-0,
Does skin lie? Blue skin Blue means loyal A hero to the average American Worn with pride to show that They are a presence meant For peace and equality Does their skin tell the truth?
Black. That's what they see first. Black. That's what they hear first. Black. That's what they touch first. Black. That's what they remember first.
I look up and I see the red and blue flashes.
We see in a certain way What we think we know We don't We see you struggle We see you die We do nothing We think we understand We feel sorry We see again and again We ignore
If you are intimidated by someone else's skin color STEP DOWN If you believe that your life is somehow more valuable than those that don’t look like you
Lord forgive them.They know not what they've done. White hands.
Maybe I'm wrongBut I don't think police is lawful anymoreIt doesn't make any since how much lives are being claimedAnd that's a shame, it seems like the more we publicize,
I walk to my home, the summer air is thick; surrounded by hallowed street lights and homes of made of brick The streets I walk, normally awake with life, are empty and dull; not a cackle of laughter in my line of sight
"I wanna be a police officer when I grow up!" A little boy of just a few year said to me.He must not see the news.
There's a people cryin out to the Lord today Cause too many injustices done come our way A people oppressed you think would have nothing to say But we can't be fearful with our heads hung in shame
Strip me of my pride, all the lies been synthesize, been over looked, i been tooked, repromised of my pride. Done in the dark comes to light and a thousand black women march in pain, hoping not to go in vein,
they say that adaptation in its prime is simply assimilation or admiration . but I see things as they are and not for how they will be and what this is, what they are-- is damnation.
how am I supposed to feel, when we live in a world where it's a crime to feel? when I was a little girl I was happy, I was bold, I held freedom, despite what they spoke.
The fight is strong The will is weak We want the same We want a leader to rise up We want the war to stop We see no where to hide The fight will not stop We are killed We are stereotyped
Somewhere beyond the rainbow Beyond where streets are paved in gold Beyond where freedom’s gospel is quoted in stone
I am Mike Brown. I am Tamir Rice. I am Eric Garner. I am the fallen of my culture, my color, my characteristics. I am the family of these victims, I am the friends.
Too much is going on. Its a world full of wrongs. Can never get it right. Lift our voice,they take our life. Speak some sense , they flip the switch. Police no different from the men in the sheets.
Your existence is never trivialYour sins are always forgivableYour crimes are all permissibleNo matter how despicableYou’ll never be held accountable
A father killed in the streets from a bullet fired from a gun in the hand of a man that was hired to protect and serve.
we are under the comfort that blooming flowers are bright that they shine like stars in a glistening night-- that they are good and small, like a beacon of light-- but we can't tell what's a flower
Are we awesome? Nah, maybe were just ordindary Many of my people locked away in solitary Causing this huge diversionary How can they call themselves honorary?
Was it my face or the color of my skin was it my size or was it my stride that made you apprehend me with the excuse that I was a threat When nobody checked
I protect you I serve you I am looked up to I come into your schools for career day Your kids clap They awe my presence & the powers I possess I am depicted as your "best friend"
I'm afraid to raise sons in this world.Black men who will be profiled and targeted from my womb,
As he stumbles to the ground,
This video was created to transmit disgust with incidents of law enforcement officials relying too heavily on violent measures of interventi
In the constant praise for our country We forget the misery and suffering That persists within so insidiously. We have worked tragedy unto others The real calamity is how we let it be
I feel it in your voice I sense it in your stare I taste it in your tears, a battle fought for countless years
All I ask is to be respected, I will not be neglected, you're surprise of an uprise of people acting reckless, years of peace and protest why we still feel helpless, the leaders who promoted peace, became decease, now what does that sa
Who decided that our skin was tainted Anything that isn't light and innocent Light and free Is an enemy to purity The skin is what decides who we are Even when you try to take on another skin
When I watched the first scraps of news litter my twitter feed on the ninth of August 2014I asked myself only one question:Again?
If a black teen is murdered
I'm running for my life. I hear the whirring of the alarms, the screams of the people. I look for a way to run, though all i see are mobs of pigs, enclosing on me. Then comes the tear gas.
We are justice. We are peace. We speak for the dead that can not speak Gunned down without reason Paid administrative leave There is no justice We are not free
Hunters will set up blinds In woods So the prey Being hunted Will get use to what seems foreign. I wonder If they know their getting use to Their killer We are accustomed
I see em Puffin on the marijuana Turning over the empty bottles of vodka trying to conquer the pain And the many tears brought as days turn to months and months turn to years
I see em Puffin on the marihuana Turning over the empty bottles of vodka trying to conquer the pain And the many tears brought as days turn to months and months turn to years
once upon a time in the bronx, there was a little boy name sam the reason he know his name is because he refers himself as sam i am as a little boy, he dreamed of aspiring to be a cop
On the block I saw a J-Rock with his hand on his glock looking like he wanted to pop so I, went to tell him stop. See, he just go out the pen and another strike he’ll get life in the pen and I’m his only friend, knew him since we was 10.