Reflections of My Perceptions
why not?
why should she stop wearing that short skirt and those thongs
When she knows she receives more attention when she has less clothes on?
And why should she be expected to stop playing dumb
When for most of her life, she's been taught to use her body as a source of income?
And why shouldn't she want to be his wife instead of his baby moms
Because although he has two others, she gave him his first son?
When he hits it from the back is the only time she comes,
because in her mind she can pretend that she doesn't know who it's coming from
But why shouldn't she want to give up after getting beat down like a drum
By a man who only claims his child as a tax refund?
And since he knows what's happening, why shouldn't that child's life play out like a sad rerun
Not Sanford and Son, but like father and son
And why would the spoiled fruit fall far from the same trees which strange fruit once swung
Because once a circle is complete, don't you find yourself where it all begun?
So is it any wonder that he will never get to see beyond the shadows of his slums?
How can he float like a butterfly if from day one you has been stung?
It's like trying to hit a game winning homerun
when you've been given three strikes before the ninth inning has begun
So maybe that's why he gets high off of the weed smoke in his lungs
Because he knows he will never climb that corporate ladder, not even the first rung
And his only stock option is coke and guns, so he keeps both,
plus a nine to five, but on the shift he works, he never sees the sun
And the only severance package is death, addiction or incarceration
Or if he's from overseas, maybe deportation
And the only other way out is how well he can catch, pass, shoot and run
Or maybe he can hit the studio with his similes, metaphors, punch lines and puns
But he has no education and hasn't made adequate prepartions
He only knows what he sees, so has no dreams of exploration
His life is played out like a classic black exploitation
So all he can see is what we have become
So he knows nothing of the struggle, we shall overcome
Now all he knows is that by drugs and crime his hood is overrun
And he's heard about the victims, but he doesn't know why they were hung
And he's heard about the songs of freedom, but he doesn't know why they were sung
And if the ancestors could see us, I know they would be stunned
Because look how far we have come
We, the poeple, shunned, simply because we were loved by sun
Envied because we bathed in its generous warmth and affection
A special relationship, giving us the gift of our complexion
but for our
When she knows she receives more attention when she has less clothes on?
And why should she be expected to stop playing dumb
When for most of her life, she's been taught to use her body as a source of income?
And why shouldn't she want to be his wife instead of his baby moms
Because although he has two others, she gave him his first son?
When he hits it from the back is the only time she comes,
because in her mind she can pretend that she doesn't know who it's coming from
But why shouldn't she want to give up after getting beat down like a drum
By a man who only claims his child as a tax refund?
And since he knows what's happening, why shouldn't that child's life play out like a sad rerun
Not Sanford and Son, but like father and son
And why would the spoiled fruit fall far from the same trees which strange fruit once swung
Because once a circle is complete, don't you find yourself where it all begun?
So is it any wonder that he will never get to see beyond the shadows of his slums?
How can he float like a butterfly if from day one you has been stung?
It's like trying to hit a game winning homerun
when you've been given three strikes before the ninth inning has begun
So maybe that's why he gets high off of the weed smoke in his lungs
Because he knows he will never climb that corporate ladder, not even the first rung
And his only stock option is coke and guns, so he keeps both,
plus a nine to five, but on the shift he works, he never sees the sun
And the only severance package is death, addiction or incarceration
Or if he's from overseas, maybe deportation
And the only other way out is how well he can catch, pass, shoot and run
Or maybe he can hit the studio with his similes, metaphors, punch lines and puns
But he has no education and hasn't made adequate prepartions
He only knows what he sees, so has no dreams of exploration
His life is played out like a classic black exploitation
So all he can see is what we have become
So he knows nothing of the struggle, we shall overcome
Now all he knows is that by drugs and crime his hood is overrun
And he's heard about the victims, but he doesn't know why they were hung
And he's heard about the songs of freedom, but he doesn't know why they were sung
And if the ancestors could see us, I know they would be stunned
Because look how far we have come
We, the poeple, shunned, simply because we were loved by sun
Envied because we bathed in its generous warmth and affection
A special relationship, giving us the gift of our complexion
but for our
When she knows she receives more attention when she has less clothes on?
And why should she be expected to stop playing dumb
When for most of her life, she's been taught to use her body as a source of income?
And why shouldn't she want to be his wife instead of his baby moms
Because although he has two others, she gave him his first son?
When he hits it from the back is the only time she comes,
because in her mind she can pretend that she doesn't know who it's coming from
But why shouldn't she want to give up after getting beat down like a drum
By a man who only claims his child as a tax refund?
And since he knows what's happening, why shouldn't that child's life play out like a sad rerun
Not Sanford and Son, but like father and son
And why would the spoiled fruit fall far from the same trees which strange fruit once swung
Because once a circle is complete, don't you find yourself where it all begun?
So is it any wonder that he will never get to see beyond the shadows of his slums?
How can he float like a butterfly if from day one you has been stung?
It's like trying to hit a game winning homerun
when you've been given three strikes before the ninth inning has begun
So maybe that's why he gets high off of the weed smoke in his lungs
Because he knows he will never climb that corporate ladder, not even the first rung
And his only stock option is coke and guns, so he keeps both,
plus a nine to five, but on the shift he works, he never sees the sun
And the only severance package is death, addiction or incarceration
Or if he's from overseas, maybe deportation
And the only other way out is how well he can catch, pass, shoot and run
Or maybe he can hit the studio with his similes, metaphors, punch lines and puns
But he has no education and hasn't made adequate prepartions
He only knows what he sees, so has no dreams of exploration
His life is played out like a classic black exploitation
So all he can see is what we have become
So he knows nothing of the struggle, we shall overcome
Now all he knows is that by drugs and crime his hood is overrun
And he's heard about the victims, but he doesn't know why they were hung
And he's heard about the songs of freedom, but he doesn't know why they were sung
And if the ancestors could see us, I know they would be stunned
Because look how far we have come
We, the poeple, shunned, simply because we were loved by sun
Envied because we bathed in its generous warmth and affection
A special relationship, giving us the gift of our complexion
but for our
When she knows she receives more attention when she has less clothes on?
And why should she be expected to stop playing dumb
When for most of her life, she's been taught to use her body as a source of income?
And why shouldn't she want to be his wife instead of his baby moms
Because although he has two others, she gave him his first son?
When he hits it from the back is the only time she comes,
because in her mind she can pretend that she doesn't know who it's coming from
But why shouldn't she want to give up after getting beat down like a drum
By a man who only claims his child as a tax refund?
And since he knows what's happening, why shouldn't that child's life play out like a sad rerun
Not Sanford and Son, but like father and son
And why would the spoiled fruit fall far from the same trees which strange fruit once swung
Because once a circle is complete, don't you find yourself where it all begun?
So is it any wonder that he will never get to see beyond the shadows of his slums?
How can he float like a butterfly if from day one you has been stung?
It's like trying to hit a game winning homerun
when you've been given three strikes before the ninth inning has begun
So maybe that's why he gets high off of the weed smoke in his lungs
Because he knows he will never climb that corporate ladder, not even the first rung
And his only stock option is coke and guns, so he keeps both,
plus a nine to five, but on the shift he works, he never sees the sun
And the only severance package is death, addiction or incarceration
Or if he's from overseas, maybe deportation
And the only other way out is how well he can catch, pass, shoot and run
Or maybe he can hit the studio with his similes, metaphors, punch lines and puns
But he has no education and hasn't made adequate prepartions
He only knows what he sees, so has no dreams of exploration
His life is played out like a classic black exploitation
So all he can see is what we have become
So he knows nothing of the struggle, we shall overcome
Now all he knows is that by drugs and crime his hood is overrun
And he's heard about the victims, but he doesn't know why they were hung
And he's heard about the songs of freedom, but he doesn't know why they were sung
And if the ancestors could see us, I know they would be stunned
Because look how far we have come
We, the poeple, shunned, simply because we were loved by sun
Envied because we bathed in its generous warmth and affection
A special relationship, giving us the gift of our complexion
but for our
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