You captured kings and warriors and now our bloodline fights back
You underestimated the mystery and power behind those of us who are black
You saw our strength and resilience and said “They’ll be fine to do our work”
Then you sat back and sipped lemonade and enjoyed your little perks
You snipped away our history and webbed a new layer of lies
You forced us to assimilate to your culture to clear us of our ties
But you neglected to look down and the ground. Do you see those brown hues?
You thought shipping across the water would drown our ability to pick up the clues?
You vandalized our statures and burned our museums as well
If we couldn’t pick up on our similarities you thought we could not tell
It’s only natural for us to plant our feet firmly on the ground; to survive, thrive, and create anew
Because like a rose that grows from concrete, adapting is just what we do
You hung us from the trees. You whipped us on our knees
You slapped us with a system that provides unnecessary penalties and fees
Your barbaric system is biting back in your butt
Because the blood in my veins are compelling me to scream enough is enough
You thought you could murder my ancestors and bury their wrath in the ground?
Well those strange fruit are ripe in my mind and the wind in the leaves are making a sound
You captured warriors and royalty. Kings and queens.
And you thought the only thing majestic about us was how we dance and sing?
Black excellence is in our ability to survive.
You thought you could break us but still we rise.
You may think you’ve won the war and short-lived is this riot
But this is a revolution and we will no longer be quiet