- A busy street. Birds are singing. It's nice out. Down the block, street performers are playing some tunes. Someone begins walking and we're walking beside them.
[Poem]
Look... I can rep a Puerto Rican flag like its nothing.
But chay'll know I'm black, so why you even fronting?
Get round my fam and I'm acting like I'm southern,
Get round yours and I'm acting like I'm white right?
Talking sophisticated through education.
Something they says been wasted this generation.
They 15 and loving "fornification", then end up blaming 'em all
Its all on human relations, I hate it.
But just cause I'm in love with words,
Makes me a doofus and a nerd right?
Oh, its funny to you...
Since what you say, don't always make you heard so—
That don't even mean I'm hurt though.
And if I am, that don't mean I gotta fight.
So you should beat him in until he doesn't have sight,
And till all he hears is birds right?
And just cause he can't hop up on the mic,
Then play it like Mike, mean I can't kill it like Mike,
Since I write it like Wright, right?
Dick—please tell these Uncle Toms to chill it,
Cause it really bothers me
That they don't take care of they children, for real.
Tell all of these black boys
They won't ever make a living
Causing wounds they can't heal.
"Nah, no way! They don't value time,
So they might as well write their will today."
No... yes way...
Cause Antoine is in his backyard, thinking he the next Lebron.
But you don't see nobody tryna beat Denzel.
Pawandeep is tryna escape his country,
Get free of the tyranny and being eaten alive.
Of being beaten until he doesn't know who he is,
Till he got no eyes, he swear he doesn't even know why.
Oh and... Ty? He's secretly one of a kind.
He's been working to be the first black Einstein.
And you'd be thinking by this time he'd actually be it...
But then his Pops found out, that ain't end well.
And see it used to be okay,
But that was back in the 10 cent comic days.
Now in the common day era—there’s an error,
Now its: "Whatever, do what you say babe."
Nowadays, I’m always getting shunned by the groups,
The cliques, the ones that are runned by the troops,
Of cool kids; truth is, they care less about school
And most of them are foolish, to me.
Cause ya'll are on a mayday, tell George Strait,
We got a problem here Houston,
There’s confusion in America.
Under them, there’s a fire ready to blow.
And really the only direction to go is up.
If I told you that the world was ending,
Would you really listen to me if I said so?
See I ain’t in it for the color of a gecko,
I get it and go, but I’m in it for the soul boy.
- A ringtone sounds.
I’m in it for the art flow,
Not the Rolls, or the Caddies, or the girls with the fatties,
I’d just rather buy a house with a patio.
So my grandparents can sit down, put they feet up.
And my dad can get hitched—hope he's ready for prenups.
I mean this is all I feel,
From the chrome to my toes, this the deal.
And I really don't mind, if some of you don't care,
Cause hate is always a scream, and love is always a whisper.
So many crimes, none of us feel cared for.
We're beaten down and barefoot.
Just a father and a mother sitting next to each other.
A boy and a girl who are falling in love,
And about ten other people who are starting to judge,
Cause someone don't have either or.
- Another ringtone sounds.
The middle class still counts their money twice.
And the poor just sit around
Staring up at the kites where their dreams are,
They find it so hard to reach
As the rich just roll past them driving in their dream cars.
You can't see it? It's right in front of your eyes.
Be smart enough to squint, before the lights dim some.
Go ahead and take a crack at it.
But any diamond in the rough,
Has been swept under the rug now.
No need to mention the level of tragic.
Cause all we need to do is fight past it.
Then we'll have it in this twisted tale of Aladdin,
But see, that's why I call it all carpet magic.
- The two previous tones ring out.
