Liberty vs Justice


that the people of the world will reign supreme
above the clutches of racism and oppression
Those who can’t relate to our struggle
misunderstand our aggression . . .
Politics incorporated money as a part of our blessings
So now I’m stressing, due to a lack of blessings
Looking at my affiliates sideways because 1 or 2 of their loyalty’s in question . . .

Power to the people
Who’ve stood in the trenches, and demanded the right to be treated equal.
That was my grandparents’ story
Now the government is trying their best to manipulate the sequel
Power to the person(s)
Who’ve obtained, what needed to be obtained
in order for them to gain, what needed to be gained
Slavery was abolished, so they forced us into chain gangs
Jim Crow was put to pasture, so they built a lot more prisons
Drugs and alcohol was pumped into our communities
so they can manipulate and cloud our visions
Gangsta rap and movies was produced
to manipulate our decisions
Slavery was justified by religion
That’s why we go HAM, for what we believe in
Because I am what I am, and that’s not what they programmed me to be
So when I look into a mirror, all I see is me . . .
Unafraid to face myself . . . no I’m not a sell-out, so no, I don’t hate myself . . .
I live by a high standard, so it’s hard for me to rate myself . . .
The sky isn’t MY limit
For my horizon isn’t burdened by the power of restriction

Da Struggle


 Kids starving, momma nodding and pops foreign
These are the broken homes that most of us were born in
No food, no heat, and no water
This here is poverty, where life expectancy is much shorter

No shoes, holey clothes, and runny noses
In a place where praying is unheard of and who is Moses?
Prostitutes, drug dealers and cold killers
Doing errands for them so I could eat is all I remember

Birthdays was the worst days
We had to steal out of stores when we was thirsty
They say that there ain’t no love for the wicked
But don’t judge us, life chose us—we didn’t pick it

Surrounded by steel gates, none of them pickets
It’s like we were raised for jail, I don’t get it
Kids getting used, molested, and abused
Wearing long sleeves to school to hide the bruise

“M.O.B.,” a lot of dudes say; they live by the rules
And the young girls think it’s cute, but they are so confused
But I love where I’m from—don’t get it misconstrued
Even back when my lil bro was crying from hunger
And I ain’t know what to do

A couple of years later and it still draws emotions from you
And it’s still taking our young men to jail by the bundles
I’m a proud survivor of our world that we call the jungle
And even when I get old and rich, I’ll always remember “da struggle”