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letra de black boy - miles canady

[hook: miles]
how it feel to be a black boy?
with a target on your back & not a care in the world
how it feel to be a black boy?
knowing that they hate you & love the back of your girl
how it feel to be a black boy?
when every day you look happy, but inside you losing hope
how it feel to be a black boy?
how it feel to be a black boy?

[verse 1: miles]
breaking news, another poc gunned down by a c-o-p
we’re treated like we’re below trees, dirt that won’t see no seeds
meaning we can’t grow, they act like they can’t hear us, that’s van gogh
i’m basquiat, society is monochrome
pigment won’t define a thing, but some are colorblind
yelling to us “you’re nothing and don’t you dare think otherwise”
the ant-thesis to the black stereotype is right here
also known as a close-minded racist’s nightmare
peep this point of view, first person but i feel omniscient
will my proper english draw in comments like “you’re not like them”?
will they put me in a box before i can even speak?
will these policemen let me be and let me leave in peace?
or will a bullet tell me my life doesn’t matter?
my last sight is red lights & seeing people scatter
another black body lying still
yet they still ask me how it feels

[hook: qua]

[verse 2: qua]
they all got opinions, but don’t ask for mine
and they tell me that i should stay in line
but uncle sam is no relative of mine
and this berry makes the sweetest juice you’ll ever find
i remember when i use to wish my skin was lighter
why my hair so nappy, and my nose is wider
than the other kids, now my skin tone i’m loving it
dark is in style now – except with the government
no conspiracy this sh-t is real
happened in my hometown, man this sh-t is real
now it seems like i could be the next to feel
that bullet or whatever they may choose to k!ll
or call it defense, but where is the threat?
all i see is kids, they scared to be next
seems like for you to make it gotta be off-white
and they still look surprised when they say you talk white
i mean, talk right

[hook: $eejay]

[verse 3: $eejay]
as a black boy, i live in fear
age 21 that’s supposed to be my year
from a snake in the gr-ss or a b-tch with a badge
either hooping or producing only way out the rags
and the only jail free p-ss
is first line in the slave trade – oops, i mean the nfl draft
so how it feel to be a n-gga?
gratuitous, ludicrous, fearful stares in the numerous
as a white lady grips her purse hoping not to lose her sh-t
dialed the troopers quick, now my medulla split
so you ask me how it to be a n-gga, negro
because i’m not a luke i gotta see 3 po’s?
r.i.p. to eric garner – a father
christian taylor, trayvon, tamir, all victims to slaughter
from the men who serve & protect, who have lost my respect
because they choose to neglect all the rules that been set
rules? what the f-ck i’m talking about?
the const-tution was written while jim crow was still in the south
yeah this goes way back, way back
using black ink to k!ll white lines, f-cking white b-tches, buying chains
motherf-cker this is payback

[outro: qua]
the boy with a dream walks the streets quietly
pretends to be oblivious to the evil around him and he resists the urge to react violently
because that’s not how he was raised
he was taught to behave
and keep your mouth shut unless spoken to, so he strolls around silently
but lately it seems the demons are working harder than usual
he refuses to read another obituary or attend another funeral
child after child
friend after friend
this whirlwind of death that has no end
and now it seems like bullets is only where it begins
but yet the boy with a dream still walks the streets silently
and still he resists the urge to speak out and react violently
his mother says he doesn’t wanna be the never kid on the news
so mind your business and keep quiet walking back and forth from school
but one day he took the long way home and got a little hungry
stopped at the store to grab some candy and there were police looking at him funny
they proceeded to search him simply because of his attire
and he knew that they were wrong so now he refused to keep quiet
now they reacted violently
he just wanted to make it home
as he struggled more and more he sees people pulling out their phones
he forgot all about how he was raised and he refused to stand down
now there’s a bullet in his dreams and his corpse as it lies on the ground

- miles canady

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