| The devil goes to and fro
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| Like a lion seeking someone to devour
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| Resist him
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| Don’t close the book, I got more to write
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| You can change the story, that is my advice
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| I read in color, they see black and white
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| You just saw the cover, but there’s more to life
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| Don’t close the book, I got more to write
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| You can change the story, that is my advice
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| I read in color, they see black and white
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| You just saw the cover, but there’s more to life
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| Yeah, hello
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| Quick introduction before I narrate
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| I’m from the west, between Cornel and Kanye
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| I grew up between section eight and cloud nine
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| During my youth I lost my sense of being colorblind
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| In between white supremacy and black nihilism
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| AME churches, corner stores and the prison systems
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| Hoteps and preachers on the block, they was dropping wisdom
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| I would pick it up and just give it a little rhythm
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| They said my lineage had a couple of kings
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| A couple queens, a couple thieves, a couple fiends
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| Despite the struggle, I would teach that we are equal
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| I fall short like a midget but I’m down for the people
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| The people, argue I died with integration
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| Their false liberation is really assimilation
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| The youth view my history with some suspicion
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| They wanna progress past religion and tradition
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| I say
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| Don’t close the book, I got more to write
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| You can change the story, that is my advice
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| I read in color, they see black and white
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| You just saw the cover, but there’s more to life
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| Don’t close the book, I got more to write
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| You can change the story, that is my advice
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| I read in color, they see black and white
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| You just saw the cover, but there’s more to life
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| Hello average, let me introduce you to awesome
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| That Harlem renaissance age had some excellent artists
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| That miseducation, that midnight marauding
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| That life before Eve ate that fruit in the garden
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| They say 'You might be on the wrong side of history'
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| Well, that depends on who’s writing
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| Who’s reciting, who’s typing and who likes it
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| If we want peace somebody has to do the fighting
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| We exit Egypt, happy to speak resistance
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| Then turn around, and ask pharaoh for his assistance
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| Huh, what is logic to the ignorant?
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| What’s forgiveness to people who think they’re sinless?
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| We are those, fully exposed, Adam and Eve hiding our weakness
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| Folks who wanna be close but the devil stands between us
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| Who knows the dirty souls with an urgent need to be cleaned up
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| They oppose my solution, everybody hates Jesus
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| Don’t close the book, I got more to write
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| You can change the story, that is my advice
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| I read in color, they see black and white
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| You just saw the cover, but there’s more to life
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| Don’t close the book, I got more to write
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| You can change the story, that is my advice
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| I read in color, they see black and white
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| You just saw the cover, but there’s more to life
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| Yeah, what’s protest to the law?
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| Should I pray or should I riot?
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| Do I want peace, or do I want power so I can try it?
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| Who’s gonna give the truth when these church moms retire?
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| When censorship gets you fired and nobody gets inspired
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| I don’t care what you look like, black, white or magenta
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| I don’t care where you come from, Africa or placenta
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| We all desperate and broken, given the same dilemma
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| Do I serve God, or do I make off in my agenda?
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| I remember thinking I was Daniel with the lions
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| I’m like Israel in hiding when it’s time to fight Goliath
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| I’ve been broken, I’ve seen death working
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| I’ve fought doubt, I’ve been knocked out, I know what hurt is
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| I run from the truth, but I know where the church is
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| I failed doing my job but yet I know my purpose
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| Praise Jesus I was blind but now I see
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| But my problem is I think I see too many things
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| Let us chiropractic crack open the spine of this book
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| Turn a few pages and take a deep look
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| This is not the Catcher in the Rye
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| This is the African who caught the slave catcher’s eye
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| An invisible man who has the whole world watching
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| Shall we meet the protagonist?
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| For I am the colored cog in the capitalist wheel
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| With baby faced bronze skin and melanin appeal snatched from the cradle of
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| civilization
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| My name is Louis Portier
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| Arrived on these shores but I’ve got more to say |
| From Bali to Barbados to Beaufort, South Carolina
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| Sierra Leone to Sapelo, with
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| Sugar cane on my fingertips and shackles on my feet
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| There were limitations to emancipating me until I sunk my tooth into Juneteenth
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| Freedom tastes like grandma’s sweet potato pie
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| But it goes from master’s plantation to mass incarceration
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| As the Jim Crow flies, all of this happened, more or less
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| This is Up From Slavery, meets Porgy and Bess
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| August Wilson, and Kenya Barris
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| James Brown and James Burr
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| Kehinde Wiley, and Kara Walker
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| George Carrothers, Clinton and Washington
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| Carver, the great migration and reconstruction
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| From black wall streets, to Harlem Artilliers
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| This is black survival and success, put on full display
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| Whether it’s the Little Rock, or the Charleston Nine
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| Trying to integrate, or praying to stay alive
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| Thinking that if my work was good somehow y’all would recognize my personhood
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| But nah, instead I had to hustle this chocolate charm
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| This black brilliance, this ebony ingenuity
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| I know what this nation has done, can do, and is doing to me
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| Also what it could be and therefore still, I rise
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| From 1619 and beyond here I stand
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| From being three-fifths of a compromised plan
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| Using the breath in my black lungs
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| Shouting words from a place of black love
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| 'I am a man' |