On the corner with my fist up screaming black power
cracking heads open & opening eyes to true passion.
street hustle, ghetto poet on the side of the road living for expression & that urban life that no one knows.
off the top of the dome no hook, all passion nothin written, pounding you in your ear drum trying to get you to listen.
watching days go and nights come watching those urban arts grow as if there taking steroids.
putting a price on those who try to escape what the white folks call hell.forced to comence our art at night cause if caught in day risk a life of enslavement
freedom of speech is limited to those of who u speak with like locke said show me a free man and ill show you his chains
so i stand on this corner with my fist up uniting our common bonds and freeing us of our common chains
