Rikers Island Redux
Lyrics
America, America
Purveyor of mass hysteria
Mass production
And mass incarceration
The epitome of huddled masses yearning to breathe, free
The masses, masses, the masses, masses
Mass is the property of matter regardless of the state
But it seems we don't matter until we're properties of the state en masse
And massah's still trying to trick himself into believing he picked cotton too
And no matter how much I cow tow tap dance and jump through a bunch of hoops
I'll still be the one who winds up in a jumpsuit
I'll still be the one who winds up with the gun wounds
King had just one dream that won't seem to come true
X had necessary means and a gun too
Though there's always more than one truth
Even on cloudy days, sun rays still come through
I mask feelings of pain and ask for healing
We got the same glass ceiling
But I'm s'posed to be thankful for my sun roof
And massah's still trying to trick himself into believing he picked the cotton too
It's complex how being born with this complexion
Ups the likelihood of dying in a prison complex
And orange ain't the new black
Black is the same, same black
But this ain't just for black folks
Just ask those backward folks
That stay intolerant like lactose
We 'bout to blast, blowing like Miles, Coltrane, and Satchmo
You can act slow, but we want our civil rights in fast forward
Ain't we asking for it
This is just the beginning of a long list of demands, bro
This ya last chance, yo
This is the optimum time, and just like Optimus Prime, we gon' transform
This gift of gab is God given, and it's given this man a knack for it
So let's stand for 'em
In New York, Cleveland, Cincinnati, Charlotte, ATL
Charleston, San Fran, Oakland, LA, B-More, Detroit, DC, Chicago and Ferguson
It's time for turning up, time for turning tables
Turning heads and it's time to plan
I take a line from my man Lin-Man who wrote Ham
Revolution is messy, but now it's time to stand
So stand up, stand up
Word to the words of the police, hands up
Word to the folks in jail copping pleas
Please, people, copy me
No misogyny, but we gotta man up
We gotta open that can up
I'm not worried about becoming worms meat
What concerns me is my people learning
The difference between earning our own keep
And working another man's land for free
One is just the same slavery
The other unlocks chains, so turn key
I hate that this deferred dream keeps recurring
Wake up America, wake up and hurry
America, America
Purveyor of mass hysteria
Mass production
And mass incarceration
The epitome of huddled masses yearning to breathe, free
The masses, masses, the masses, masses
Mass is the property of matter regardless of the state
But it seems we don't matter until we're properties of the state en masse
And massah's still trying to trick himself into believing he picked cotton too
And no matter how much I cow tow tap dance and jump through a bunch of hoops
I'll still be the one who winds up in a jumpsuit
I'll still be the one who winds up with the gun wounds
King had just one dream that won't seem to come true
X had necessary means and a gun too
Though there's always more than one truth
Even on cloudy days, sun rays still come through
I mask feelings of pain and ask for healing
We got the same glass ceiling
But I'm s'posed to be thankful for my sun roof
And massah's still trying to trick himself into believing he picked the cotton too
It's complex how being born with this complexion
Ups the likelihood of dying in a prison complex
And orange ain't the new black
Black is the same, same black
But this ain't just for black folks
Just ask those backward folks
That stay intolerant like lactose
We 'bout to blast, blowing like Miles, Coltrane, and Satchmo
You can act slow, but we want our civil rights in fast forward
Ain't we asking for it
This is just the beginning of a long list of demands, bro
This ya last chance, yo
This is the optimum time, and just like Optimus Prime, we gon' transform
This gift of gab is God given, and it's given this man a knack for it
So let's stand for 'em
In New York, Cleveland, Cincinnati, Charlotte, ATL
Charleston, San Fran, Oakland, LA, B-More, Detroit, DC, Chicago and Ferguson
It's time for turning up, time for turning tables
Turning heads and it's time to plan
I take a line from my man Lin-Man who wrote Ham
Revolution is messy, but now it's time to stand
So stand up, stand up
Word to the words of the police, hands up
Word to the folks in jail copping pleas
Please, people, copy me
No misogyny, but we gotta man up
We gotta open that can up
I'm not worried about becoming worms meat
What concerns me is my people learning
The difference between earning our own keep
And working another man's land for free
One is just the same slavery
The other unlocks chains, so turn key
I hate that this deferred dream keeps recurring
Wake up America, wake up and hurry
Writer(s): Brook Christian Davis, Daniel J. Watts, Kelvin Wooten, Raphael Saadiq
Copyright(s): Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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