Oh what’s that officer,
Did you say I fit the description?
Well don’t bother using handcuffs,
Because from since birth I’ve felt the constriction.
I kept my words and anger at a minimum
Because I live the life of a Christian.
Plus, cops hide behind their guns
And I saw his trigger-finger itching.
Submission of my wrists,
As a matter of fact my whole body, mind, and soul.
And you would think it hard to believe
That the youth could wield
The wisdom of the old.
Societies in which blacks tinker on the very edge,
Almost no existence
So I make new paths,
Trudging through the mass,
To overcome my birthed restrictions.
Jun 21, 2012
Jun 21, 2012 at 4:00 PM UTC
Oh what’s that officer,
Did you say I fit the description?
Well don’t bother using handcuffs,
Because from since birth I’ve felt the constriction.
I kept my words and anger at a minimum
Because I live the life of a Christian.
Plus, cops hide behind their guns
And I saw his trigger-finger itching.
Submission of my wrists,
As a matter of fact my whole body, mind, and soul.
And you would think it hard to believe
That the youth could wield
The wisdom of the old.
Societies in which blacks tinker on the very edge,
Almost no existence
So I make new paths,
Trudging through the mass,
To overcome my birthed restrictions.
