Echoes

Bust how we stand in the foreground of the american stageplay, when we
were casted as the background's understudy. Again in the foreground,
the bastard child of four fathers, now scorned by our fore-fathers for
disrespecting our single mothers in public. The revolution done
changed, Black man changed shades, Black girl turned blonde, I thought
I heard echoes of victory - turned around and the sorrow in this
song... Can you hear it?

~~~>Listen, my people speaking, spilling blood in these streets/
It takes a toll on my soul, everyday I feel like leaving/
I hear my people crying, and them tears keep streaming/
Everytime I try I try to leave...they start to scream like/

From forefathers, to martyrs, folk don't seem to regard us/
But they seen waters walked on, seen brothers auctioned/
Topics that talk on, people see and walk on/
Get tripped up, on what i spit up - now they sidewalks is chalked on/
I'm locked on - focused on the heat that make the beat dope/
I blow the winds of change just to ventilate the weed smoke/
You speak frail, what I spit you can feel, son I speak braille/
I spit fire, that's why you kill dragons when they inhale/

Two niggas foght under orange lamps,
Such a sorry sight forced me to cast away hope.
Being one observer, long I watch and thought,
"How redundant the term 'project growth'".
You see I, I speak the word less spoken by,
And all my people show me is disinterest...Can you hear it?

~~~>Listen, my people speaking, spilling blood in these streets/
It takes a toll on my soul, everyday I feel like leaving/
I hear my people crying, and them tears keep streaming/
Everytime I try I try to leave...they start to scream like/

Good Evening my people. I say 'evening' because I see the sun setting
on our culture, our very way of living. I see the decades and
centuries cascade past skyscrapers; the struggle, the
progress...chasing the fleeting sunlight. I say 'good evening', 'cause
I'm afraid we just missed twilight.