The nigga mentality, it is a fatality, powered by evil intentions
A sad reality based on fallacies, sustained by mental inventions
Placed in poverty, from birth niggas are forced to carry Atlean loads
Stress magnifying conflict from fistfights to puttin' gats in ur nodes
Niggas in suspension, they can't move forward in the social order
It's a very rare nigga with a passport to breach the mental border
Hearing money, hoes, and drugs on the radio, it kills their radience
Voice of reason going deaf to ears like a steadily falling cadence
Here's a story about a nigga, name of Nigga, his life and times
Who fell victim throughout the years to other people's crimes
So pay good attention, all, and listen closely for what's really true
This message was brought to your home by a nigga near you

He was born on a stormy night, sometime in the late 17th Century
In the home of the nigger world's most unforgiving penitentiary
Slavery was skyrocketing, becoming popular all over the globe
Using Africans dressed from warrior's gowns to philosopher's robes
Slave traders saw no difference, to them, Africans were all the same
So they slapped on the nigger label, 'cause every tool needs a name
And then the game elevated, and slaves were a necessity for life
The black man was married to servitude, divorced by law to his wife

Beginning in the 18th Century, Nigga began learning how to walk
Starting to breach the opression, teaching himself to write and talk
It was the rise of the nigger soldiers, fighting an impossible battle
Intervening, some hand of fate created nigga bulls from the cattle
The emergence of heros like Frederick Douglas and Harriet Tubman
Nigga actually took a step here in escaping the slavery gunmen
The stupid fool started remembering where it was he came from
And for Nigga, life again began to move to the beat of the drum

And in the 19th Century, Nigga was facing a new kind of struggle
Forced to fight for their former enslavers, in a new kind of trouble
They fought the Civil War, but they had no animosity for one another
Still made to capture Southern states, killing son, father, and mother
And they were the best of the best, Buffalo Soldiers, strong and loyal
Spilling more blood in their rampage than had ever touched the soil
But when it was all said and done, and the North conquered the war
They still found ways to keep nigga uneducated, oppressed and poor

Then the 20th Century, the age of the world's best freedom fighters
Nigga jobs ranging from poets and musicians to scientists and writers
Activists, fighting without their fists, Martin Luther King and Malcolm X
Securing the lives of future niggas, ensuring what was to come next
Lynch mobs, riots, Nigga sat in the back of the bus, treated dirty
Couldn't even get a drink from clean water fountains when thirsty
But it seemed a righteous attempt, paving the way for all the rest
For Nigga striving to be strong, to be recognized as one of the best

His life is still complicated, difficult, painful, in his eyes he's destitute
And miraculously he managed to keep alive, searching for his route
It seems Nigga will not give up his search for identity, too much pride

Here Lies Nigga
1619 - ???
YOU DECIDE


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They go through their lives mechanically, trying to forget the past
Only the car reflects their hidden emotion, it's too loud, it's too fast
The pain lies deep inside, something they've supressed out of need
Unbeknownst to the fact they're starving emotion that needs to feed
Every time they walk past the table, they can't bring themselves to look
It seemed like yesterday Johnny was curled on the floor with a book
All the drugs they took, the therapy, knowing nothing was working
"It's not denial, you arrogant bastard! Can't you see I'm just hurting?!?"
No more flirting with the idea of letting him travel up to school alone
No more affectionate rolling eyes when he spilled ice cream from his cone
No more will they wake his lazy behind up out of the bed, acting mad
When all they really felt was love for him, through the good and the bad
And when the doubt set in, oooh, it was terrible, were they good enough?
Keeping him from all the bad things, teaching him how life can be tough
"Why didn't we know he would go? Why didn't we warn him?" they wept
"Why didn't we teach him more about life with the time we had left?"
They saw the car turning, it's engine burning, saw the owner was drunk
Saw their son get hit, flip bodily over, saw him fall down on the trunk
Saw his delicate frame hit the floor hard, violently striking hot cement
Rolled and lied sprawled-eagled in the middle of the road, his body bent
And just like that, Johnny was gone, and back to their present Hell
Where they only remembered his joy from having his first painting sell
Johnny was their life, their entire being, now just imagine their pain
When the only Johnny they had was on the table, in a picture frame