Keep me behind bars.
I’ll be the one with the nameless placard
With strings of DNA attached
Molecular structure screams I’m an allstar
Would never be able to pull off a pair though.
Back to the topic,
I’ve been gnawing at it
Because I’m so hungry,
Not for fame or for money
And not because there’s nothing to eat
Just adamant that I won’t be fed, your thoughts of me.
Behind these bars
In this jungle of sapiens driven by their desires
Striving to be superstars,
No homo, no really… I forgot the homo,
Is this because my religion doesn’t allow it, or did I just simply forget it?
Now isn’t it ironic I’m writing this
Whilst listening to Gambino’s Camp – which by the way is pure brilliance
And that definitely can’t have been an accident.
What makes you think we are here accidentally, put here without reason?
I’m sorry.. is freedom of speech now becoming a treason?
Your mind is thinking whether you should keep reading
Because religion is boring and controversy is just a far away memory
That is studied, disected, respected as a theory – but what is not realised is that it is my everday story.
Even Kanye knows if he raps about God his record won’t get played
Write it in essays, questions given by lecturers to try and get guided answers
Try to guide you to plaster the wounds from shots of empathy,
Because if you place yourself in my shoes, you might just understand me,
And do you really want to deal with that?
Now I’m not trying to go all political and hate on the teaching sector,
Because I got to
Where I am because of it,
And I appreciate.
But be aware that there is more to learn,
Stop and think what are you truly yearning to earn?
Our eyes are locked on what’s ‘proper’
You just have to look at what people like to call the game,
There’s a proper way of being a rapper
There’s even a proper way of being lame
A proper way of wrapping the truth with paper of lies and I ain’t talking no Daily Mirror
Wrapped up with a bow, an arrow on the package pointing to me
Name on the front, saying this is for me
I rip away the lies I tell myself everyday,
And the only thing that remains is the gift of faith.
There’s a right way to do the wrong things when our minds are made up
We’re so used to doing what we’re used to
That as soon as we face up
To something new, we show we no longer value What we preach through the streets
and that is to be different.
It’s always been normal for rappers to say they’re gonna blow up
Now I don’t say I’m a rapper, but I dont want to blow up
Even if I wanted to, knock knock bang, the security will show up
And that’s not the sort of crowd I was hoping to show up
Listening to Fiasco, Cole, Kendrick, Sanasiino
And say their voice is my voice…
I’ve been watching those I look up to for way too long
That they’ve twisted my hand and placed their’s on top
Stolen all my time, distracted by what they want me to be
Fallen at their feet,
But they can’t be to blame I’ve admitted defeat so many times,
I feel so ashamed
I’m not strong enough yet, but will power; I have – and strength I will gain
And one day, I’ll be able to carry the weight we give to the labels of the pigeonholers
And chuck it in the open sewage
That’s running through our streets
The smell of rotting naivety and leftovers of ignorance
A woman walking through it all,
Trying to balance her basket of beliefs.
We’re a generation of thinkers, ready to tinker and tailor any spy we come across,
If we become less defensive and embrace the differences
Then we’d all be moving at a pace
Faster than the Vettel and Button race
But, let me just cut to the chase
And say that I just want to put my voice out there
I think it’s only fair,
But will you be fair when you see a girl being lyrical and not see Jean Grae’s name written up there?
Will you listen to a girl that covers her hair?
Are my struggles not as sincere as those who you’d normally see infront of the screen?
Do I need to roughen up? Blacken up? Wait for Def Jam to say waddup?
You know what.. Come to think of it,
Just keep me behind bars
It’s probably safer for y’all.