Texty: Hard Knocks. School Of Hard Knocks. Thoughts Of A Negro.

(...problem with 'negro' was not the word itself
It was that a stereotype had been attached
to that word 'negro'
and that people were forced to live in accords to that stereotype)

Stereotype me, dislike me or fight me
My hustle is hip-hop, you can't indict me
Behind the light of intelligence
Critics will probably say the title's irrelevant
But the powerful fail to see the battle being fought
Wise words verbally put forth from negro thoughts
It's critical, the news programs of pitiful
Sights and sounds of a negro's background
First fired, last hired
Granny picked cotton till she died, what a way to retire
Watermelon's sellin but the seeds are black
I don't spit em out, I plant em so they come back
Music of soul cause my lyrics are funky
You stereotype we're the offspring of monkeys
I tie ya up and gag ya mouth with cornbread
And lead ya the bright way, seems ya been mislead
I enter the store on one thought - to purchase
They follow me around like a muthafuckin hostess
I see what I want, but before I can step to
They're up in my face, "Sir, can I help you?"
Out of step they seem to be with reality
Needless to say I represent a nationality
That's been linked to a Kodak
Once truth is exposed, negatives can't be kept back
Couldn't take us for what we has, took us for what we had
KKK - 3 kicks up the ass
All anti-negros ground is sinking sand
Painting false and visionary pictures
Revolting language bound to mentally hitcha
Stand still while I'm talkin
From abstract thoughts fingers completed the walkin

These are
Thoughts of a Negro

(Wonder, wonder)
(Blinkin I'm thinkin)

Alone on the corner, awaiting a red light
A van pulls up, the passengers are white
My feet's in progress, are my ears deceivin me?
I pause and down came the locks on the doors
A typical stereotypical outlook
How could a man's color betray him as a crook?
I'm on Amtrak, enroute to Atlanta
In first row, drinkin a grape Fanta
Dressed to impress and I'm a walkin jewelry store
I'm gettin lynchin looks from the conductor
Sweatin my jewels but it's cool
He's not the first or the last to
Learn first class was made for a black ass
Fuck the back, it's '91, jack
Another thought I render to be evident
Would I be treated equally if we had a black president?
In this race everyday's suspense
From death to seein infants born as chemical dependents
Skillfully prepared for a ignorant war
But all I encounter I express through metaphors
Like 'nigga', 'black', 'negro'
3 five letter words to describe me, bro
Even excepting we make good athletes
And in bed knowin no other culture can compete
So let's get right down to it
Those who now accept it always knew it

These are
Thoughts of a Negro

(Wonder, wonder)
(Blinkin I'm thinkin)

I try to make it hard for them to hate me
Alienate me, you still gotta face me
But I ain't the stereotype
Understand what I'm sayin or do all niggas sound alike?
Rap's the trade so it's made to live good
My neighbor's kids are sayin, "There goes the neighborhood"
And their dog comes in my yard and takes a shit
Then barks like tellin me, "Clean it"
But I made em all believers
Hit their daughters with a dose of this jungle fever
It was undercover but her parents discovered
Turned her out, now forever she's a nigger lover
I never feed into the stuff about the other man
Cause my destiny is planned around a mic stand
At the table of brotherhood I sit
Calling preachers, wisemen and prophets
To unravel the riddle of our existence
Domestic relations and those of distance
I'm hearin the same statements I feel are prejudiced
One day blacks will rise on their side of the fence
Stories still spread through history books in groups
Tampering with truth, telling tales of twisted roots
Stereotypes living lives of illusions
Leapin to their death, jumping to confusions
I see what I'm faced with, racist congregations
Lord be merciful to a helpless nation

These are
Thoughts of a Negro

(Wonder, wonder))