In a place

We live in a place where our skin color is profanity. 

The way we walk the way we talk is all a crime to humanity. 

We live in a place where if we sell cd's we get shot, walking from the store we

get popped, in a nice car we get stopped, buy too much and the money gets dropped.

We live in a place where if we try we die , don't try it may get by ... well with

some help.

The help is from the wealth, wealth of the whites. 

They think we don't try , they think we can't survive.

I always wondered why my mother use to sit up and cry. 

Everybody has to die, the Blacks , the Whites , we all die. 

It's not about death , it's about what we do while we're alive. 

We live in a place where they say "only the strong survive". 

We live in a place where the Whites connive.

All our homes throb as we squeeze , deovur, dump, and repeat while 

hoods around us continue to bleed ,be shot down and incarcerted by all 

these new things. 

Reservations mourn their rivers, lakes, and streams counting down the

spaces defiled by our greed while the places downtown fear our acts of freedom

peace and creed while the border jails swell with the young, old and frail while

clubs twitch with homophobic kills while the which trails proceed around abortion 

clinic bills while from sea to shining sea the man we chose to lead us

guarded in his tower would rather just mistreat us.