Dear Brothers,
My way is just as good as yours
My brothers of yesterday simply weren’t allowed to say
How happy they were to be, feel, or look a certain way.
Forced to appreciate the leftover slops like swine
because they were not allowed to own anything at the time.
Their god-given rights were inhumanely taken, however
Pride and creativity allowed them to cure it like bacon.
My brothers rapist seized their native communication
This started a loss in what was their self-identification.
Stopping the hopeless process soon became the goal
The solution was something that emits from the soul
Something that flows through your heart like a beat
And can be perfectly imitated by moving your feet.
Rhythm is bestowed in every baby, mostly latent
Just as defined as the hand and foot prints.
My brothers grasped some understanding of a new tongue
And sent subliminal messages in the songs sung.
Hidden behind the power of a rhythmic sensation
And refined a tool, divine, that could spread revelations.
At first it was only to free their physical frame
Negro spirituals did the mind the same.
I acknowledge over time, much has changed
however, the basic function of music is still small ranged.
My brothers of today, ghettoed together tightly like herds
still want others to acknowledge their existence, now through words.
All you may hear is boastful, exaggerated, and Luxurious names
All I hear is how far, in a new land, we have truly came.
My brothers of tomorrow, please don’t let this practice corrupt
I would hate for our families progress end to come so abrupt.
Braggadocious rap is just today’s phase,
An innocent reflection of how our brothers of today are raised.
Eventually it will evolve, to whatever you may need
But please pay respects to the generations that antecede.
My brothers of yesterday are those that share the experience of my ancestors and my brothers of tomorrow are those that will share the experience of those that will share the experience of my predecessors.
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