Wen I speak, do you feel weak
Wen you hear my thoughts
Do you feel caught in the web of hopelessness
Wen I say black
Do you feel it's an attack
Or a lack of understandin' on my part
Or just wrath
Comin' from me do you see, me
As a tret to your safety
Wen I say whitey
Do you consider dat bigotry
If I say I cared not about politics
Would you consider me an anarchist
If I say no to religion
Would that be considered
An extention of my misconcepton
About what you think of me
Do you see what I mean
If I said I didn't smoke, or take coke
Would you take it for a joke
And cry then wonder why I told such a lie
Are you upset because my poems sometimes make you fret
About the future of things to come
Would you call me a brute, if I wore a suit
Or said I was cute
Do you think I would be a better writer
If my poems were lighter
Spoke more about nature
Or some adventure that gave me pleasure
Would you love me more
If I spoke less about the poor
And talked about the women I adore
Now after listenin' to this
Are you lookin' for a twist
Or just another rhyme
In the next line
The solutions that you seek
Will not be in the streak
Of a pen or even ten line of mine
The problems are the same
But don't blame me because I see
That part of reality
That pains and stains the heart
I came into this life
With neither guns or knives
I made no laws with all its flaws
About black and white
And what's wrong from what's right
I speak I write of what I see
Of men holdin' men in slavery
Of colour, class and greed
So don't blame me if wen I speak
You do feel weak, I did not create
Tell me this now
Would you accuse me of causin' a riot
If I was quiet, would you
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