Young, Black, & Gifted

Professors claim we lazy and just don’t get it

Nah sir, that point? You done missed it.

It’s a scary time to be young, black, and gifted

The frame of picture we was supposed to paint done shifted

Facebook and Instagram posts like “Free my bro!”

And less information about that graduation party he was ‘sposed to throw

More concern about if the Feds’ watchin’ and who she been twatchin’ and,

Some of  us sittin’ outside talkin’ ‘bout “ooh girl, what time that class end?” and,

Girl get yo ass in and,

Sometimes I sit and think if this is what Martin envisioned for us.

If Coretta thought that all we’d care about is selfies and who gon’ take this next twitter picture for us.

If Mrs. Shabbazz sat stoically at Malcom’s funeral wondering how we was gon’ turn out.

Or if the great Nelson Mandela thought all we cared about was if the joint done burnt out.

You still don’t get it.

 

But that’s just the stereotype though.

‘Cause we be sitting in class like “Bruh fuck this shit”

Bet we won’t drop out though

For a million of us, the school system done failed

What’s the deal with stop and frisk?

Got me feeling like Jerry Seinfeld

For those of us who made it out however,

Even when we ain’t have no textbooks and the school closed every other day due to inclement weather

Even when we had our first fight in the seventh grade and our cheek swole from that first punch

Even when we had to eat that free free, ‘cause our moms couldn’t afford to pack us no bag lunch

Even when them drug dealers was like “Yo that school shit is a dub, you tryna make some easy money?”

Even when that lady cussed us out when you was working at McDonalds ‘cause we couldn’t find no honey,

Mustard for her chicken tenders that is.

You starting to understand?

 

For those of us who made it out we know got work to do.

We bout to go to college and go find us a boo,

He could be an Alpha, a Kappa, or a Que.

And yo, see them girls over there?

Yeah they AKA’s, some Delta’s too.

But we’ll never lose focus of the goal at hand.

We understand that the right way’s not always with a gun in hand and,

We understand that Karma’s gon’ get that dude who shot our mans and,

We understand that we gotta prepare ourselves now

So that we can show our babies, their babies, and their babies babies the right way how.

Because I’ma keep taking out these loans for as long as I need ‘em

My momma can’t pay for me to go college, but I damn sure deserve it

And them student athletes tryna make sure that form is perfect

Cause if they lose that scholarship, it’s back to the old shit.

 

But you lookin’ kinda confused now

Never thought this young black girl would understand how,

We were born to fail, born to die.

Tell us how we’ll never make it, tell another lie

And when I walk across that stage diploma in hand, don’t clap for me

My momma’s applause will be as loud as the bass drum in a marching band, that right there is enough for me

And when we all make it out, don’t tell your friends “That was my student” cause you know you never believed in us.

But that’s okay sir, ‘cause Martin planted that dream in us.

It’s a scary time to be young black and gifted,

This is the end of my speech and that point sir?

Looks like you still missed it.

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