I was told
If I ever wanted to be the man
I would have to stack white as tall as ten masters
Opposite of young thug
I was created as a man
I refuse to toot it and boot it backwards
Like the scare crow and the tin man
I seek answers
Spent ten years in a hibernating stage
Heavy thoughts of the right way out of the struggle
Bled onto the page
Counterfeit artists and Uncle Tom activists
Misled a colorful people to blossom within the gray
Where no one looks for love, guidance, or wisdom
Secretly formed alliances
Between politicians, war lords, and criminal organizations
But I am just an ordinary man
Who listens to the wind
Talks to the earth
And read between lines that are purposely blurred