[Verse 1: Cole Young]
Chain on, hat back
New Slave song Rat Pack
Trayvon lookalike: red hoodie on, pants sag past my ass crack
Bad luck: black cat
Go and ask Zimmer where the mags at
The stats say I've got four years left
And I just can't wait to get clapped at
Black teenager- guess I fit the description
Type-casted to every role of the script we were written
Trying to tell them that Bill O'Reilly isn't religion
Has the fear been elevated or the ignorance risen?
Got me feelin' vindictive with vicious intentions
But if I snap, then I'm given a prisoner's sentence
That's the life that we live
Malcolm died for this shit fifty fuckin' years ago
Y'all still buyin' this shit?
Y'all should realize equality ain't for everybody
Especially, Women, Gays, Lesbians, Blacks, Hispanics, Middle Easterners, Asians, Biracials, poor people...
Shit, equality ain't for anybody
It's all determined by your accent
Guess it's a damn shame that we were born to talk like black kids
[Hook x2]
Behind a color line and I can't get past it
The home of of the slaves and the land of the bastards
I got an American rag hangin' down my pant leg
It's just average flag with an accent
[Verse 2: Don Noir]
I look up and see
All white stars in a black night
All my bars in a black light
The subjects of my verses wasted
Cause every verse I say's the subject of interpretation
Like work that's graded on a teacher's personal basis
And earns complacence when it's worthy of greatness
It's strange shit, how they put an accent on the accent
You'd think our tracks are in Latin when we're rapping
Like we're hanging over e's but we came from overseas
In the motherland they say their beloved fam's hanging over seas
A strange fruit that came from southern trees
And got dropped from the lofts, now we're banging in the streets
Don't always think what they've trained you to believe
A chain to the free is as dangerous as can be
Alike if it's been molded from iron or gold
An accent on the color's never accurate, my brother