STRUGGLE

Your struggle has never been my STRUGGLE
Never known Black pride Or Lived my Hustle
Your blood never spilled like wine.
to many places in Society to hide
In costumes You play roles But the ‘’Co’s in prison don’t let You wearYour own Clothes
who you know on the outside
Even with a Jar full of ass kissin an saved dollars from non profit coalitions
Inside commissary has more convictions

Your Struggle has never been my STRUGGLE YOU
Never known Black pride Or Lived my Hustle
saved 51 people at 9-1-1
How many you saved?one?..non...?
would you RUN?
Mexican Pizza Guy mugged ‘’
stop or I’ll pull my gun’
’you Pulled a gun to save a life.?
got stitches in Your head from The PO- LICE BOOT?
How many funerals you been to?
of Black men who’s last words heard were ‘’stop or I'll shoot‘’?

your struggle has never been my STRUGGLE
Never knew Black pride Or Lived my Hustle
I slept in Prison Camp’s with' Great' People
it wasn't you
I’m not a college Kid
you Dinosaurs Speak the past to
or flint your Ego’s on
were there no money in it
yall would be GONE.

I am The kid who was cold
In places you’ve never been
a Solitary cell Billy Holiday was sick an kicked Heroin in
where The F.A.L.N gave me a Blanket and Never spoke with a Reactionary gist
I am the kid who was Hungry and The B.L.A. Gave me there Last Piece of Fruit
an went without.

That’s where I Learned what The' struggle' was about.

as weak Weather People
afraid of a black storm
watched Black rain of pain through gilded windows
standing on Persian Rugs and Political Clout turned their backs and Locked me
Out
of housing ,
education
Corporate Jobs.
was no money in the Hood then to rob
So Progress stood still
silently staring at people who starved.

C.I.A. pressed the alarm and the Revolution went in Poor folk's arm
I’m The Kid who came up hard
The Kid Marvin Gaye Screamed What's Goin on!

atThat's How I Learned what the Struggle's about
From the blood running under the doorway of my own House

No….
your STRUGGLE Could never be my STRUGGLE
as Black men’s LIVES rot on Death Row
Imprisoned in stone your ancestor’s honed
Grab greedy African diamond blood flow
sellin profitable discount designer' ghetto Clothes'
No ….
Your Struggle will never be my STRUGGLE

Now your Heritage came back to The Urban Jungl
eafter the ‘’white flight’’
Black assassinations
apologies of reparations
Back with smiles of Gentrification.
No ….
Your Struggle has never been my STRUGGLE
That’s Part of how it began
Leaving out lie’s deception And In-fil-trat-ion.

You Dinosaurs that killed the Love the first time
The ones After
The Homes
The COKE
the Doctorate
the Divorces
Tummy tucks
an Family Rehab
Are takin a stab at it again!

Made HUEY P Take that First Hit on the Crack pipeAfter where he’d been.
I know the Script from Open to end

Celebrity’s jump in Limos
When The head crackin begins
It’ s ‘’The Peoples’’ pain
neighbors,
grandmas,
Friends

who are the Bloody stand in’s.
No.....
you could truly never be part of my STRUGGLE
Cause you just aint GOT MY BACK.

you aint GOT MY BACK

I AINT GOT YOURS
The Pain to Long
Time to short to speak of how it began
if I can’t call you friend

I can't call you sista.