My blues they come from those cotton days
Black slaves bought by southern racist ways
Cruel white leaders, and if our lips were to loose
This would be our ending with a tight rope noose

Simple chords, with lyrics of choice
A wealthy white boy searching for voice
Colored teaching whites, but ends with abuse
Everything ending with a tight rope noose

I brought my blues from the cotton days
Black folks appalled by others racist ways
Country of white leaders, if our lips were to loose
Everything ending with a tight rope noose

Sad child from the city mansion practices inside
A coloured mans tune on his mind, while pool-side
Racist born father with rules and abuse
Everything ending with a tight rope noose

They once had Auction and ***** Sale signs, just up ahead
******* were sold dirt cheap and were going home bled
Branded them slaves, even made ‘em dig their own grave
Southern folk, had bragging’ rights, but not all brave
Did a whole lot more, than work the plantation cotton fields
History dare not repeat, that of which, the past conceals

They were once leanin’ towards a war path
They were paid, if they worked on da railway
They were laid, if they worked on da good day
They were beat, if they were to ever disobey
They were hung, if they were to ever astray
They got strong, then blew the white trash away
They got slack, then inhaled the white gangsta pathway
They are now lookin’ forward to the sunny daze

They then had war and peace signs, just up above
Groupies were told rock hard and don’t go falling in love
Branded them playmates, even made ‘em find more babes
Rock superstars, had bragging’ rights, but not all spades
Don’t know a whole lot more, about what Woodstock reveals
History dare not repeat, that of which, the past feels

They were once leanin’ towards a war path
They were paid, if they worked on da railway
They were laid, if they worked on da good day
They were beat, if they were to ever disobey
They were hung, if they were to ever astray
They got strong, then blew the white trash away
They got slack, then inhaled the white gangsta pathway
They are now lookin’ forward to the sunny daze

They now have entry and exit signs, just up there
Wealthy were told to gate up and don’t go walking anywhere
Branded them snobbish, even made ‘em buy brands online
Ghetto gangsta’s, had bragging’ rights, but not all offline
Don’t know a whole lot more, about what society dreams
History dare not repeat, that of which, the past achieves

They were once leanin’ towards a war path
They were paid, if they worked on da railway
They were laid, if they worked on da good day
They were beat, if they were to ever disobey
They were hung, if they were to ever astray
They got strong, then blew the white trash away
They got slack, then inhaled the white gangsta pathway
They are now lookin’ forward to the sunny daze.