CYNE, Blak Lungz - 400 Years Revisited lyrics

I was told about it young
Freedom fighter seeking soul asylum
They call him Marcus Garvey
Wants to start this
Soldier boy’s quest to bless the
Land of heartless man
He had a kind of self first yo
The plan demand
Action my resolution with the MAC-10
People don’t react ‘til you
Actually start blasting
That’s when the cockier media start asking
Saying, "Who’s this kid with
The Garveyite fashion?"
You could be down with
The brown or Anglo-Saxon
Throw your fist in the air for slave caster
Militant mind stay converted
Brave past his time
I ain’t asking for shine ‘cause people owe me
That’s why these young thugs
Rub blood so holy now they hate to see this:
Mercenaries out for Jesus
Live from the pearly white gates
About to squeeze does
Godly back Confederate flags?
I’m held hostage
No forty acres, a mule abused profit's
With no forty acres, a mule abused profit's
For 400 years we shed tears
When it's death among peers
We pour beers but now what?
Just look what the world made me: enslaved me
But at the end, yo
What the fuck’s gonna save me?

Standing in front of monuments that
Are placed in prestigious colleges
Presenting they grace but yet
Racist to the obvious
Factor: light skin to the
Hues of blacker shades
Of face i chase my dreams
In the shadow of hate battle, debating
I’m moving at a radical rate
Must I hide my face just to fucking relate?
Wait the invisible man with divisible plans
Could visualize lies, shackling both hands

For 400 years we shed tears
When it's death among peers
We pour beers but now what?
Just look what the world made me: enslaved me
But at the end, yo
What the fuck’s gonna save me?

Fulfill a mission ‘cause I’m feeling
Like we’re still in bondage
Half a millennium
My moment where I’m thinking homage
And there’s a clarity
A vision in this rat race
Tackle our shackles to erase
Names with no face
Strategy placed in a single word
To free the mind
Designing rhymes for the eyes
Of my people blind
In any attempt, feeble or not, shit
Sorry to say I wish Bush would get shot bla!
Hock these words that I spit intense
Contempt ripped with borderline hatred
For the cowardice
Powers that be control the powerless beings
With the money that we never see
So we could never be
Had us trapped here for four score
Plus four hundred more i had to
Move on this World War

On they ass so the mass’ll get the last laugh