Who Am I

"I was born.."






A black man from the motherland

Speakin a language today most people don't understand

Where no one could bother me

'
Cause I had freedom, justice, and equality

But then one day it was tooken away

And I was shipped to the U.S.A

A young brother made into a slave

To harvest the midlands and clean the chittlins

Given a new name, new religion

No freedom to vote, not even to make a decision

I saw my peoples, sold raped and took out

The rest of that stuff that Alex Haley talks about

They said I'm not from Asia I'm from Africa

And all the blacks there now are just scavengers

That's the way my mind was poisoned

To believe that in America blacks are inferior

A weak mind and a body of swine

Only adds up to being - deaf, dumb and blind

Illiterate to who where what and why

So I ask myself: who am I?



"I was born.."






A native New Yorker on the streets

Known for rockin rhymes to real rough beats

That I found in the attic, noisy with static

A sound that made me a Hip-Hop fanatic

I made a few songs that sold OK

Never top 20 or plenty airplay

I came out hardcore, flexin cock diesel

Saw a little cash and pop goes the weasel

I had to make that change and rearrange

My whole rap format, no hardcore rap

So now all the pop charts I rule

Over New Kids on the Block and Paula Abdul, huh

I thought I made it, then my song faded

And none of the black stations ever have played it

I tried to blame it on MTV

And say, "Damn, they cold played me for Young MC"

But when you get down to it, I'm the real blame

Because I wanted the fame

Money is not only the root of all evil

It's also the destruction of black people, so

Conjunction junction, what's your function?

Being a scout or sellin out?

Look in the mirror at yourself, eye to eye

And say: who am I?






A solid change, have to rearrange this strange

Feelin I'm feelin, so appealin'

I am having to deal with

Time to forget the myth of bein black and a woman

Can't get ahead, walkin on a thread, a tightrope

Can't cope, don't be a dope, have a little bit of hope

Runnin' your scope on affairs

You have to be aware, don't flare up

Let your cup runneth over

I'm not Irish, don't need a donut to fill up my dish

Nor two mango wish to wish on a star, they're so far

Anyway I'm thinkin about today, not tomorrow

I'm not a follower of anyone

My time has come, it's already here

My message is clear

Like the women of long ago, I am also here

Also to show, I have the courage

Have the strength, I'm for equal opportunity

No matter the life, length of time

Show me a sign, should I rely on a

Subliminal message, should I question

What would seem to be, life's told me?

Yes indeed, so let me speak






And that's comin from the daughter of Malcolm X

So black women put it in your texts

So you can never let, opportunity pass you by

Or even ask yourself, who am I?