When something is stolen
And you say it’s me,
Is it because I’m black?
When you raid my house
Searching for drugs,
Is it because I’m black?
When you look at me
With fear in your eyes,
Is it because I’m black
And my skin colour is a weapon?

Do you know what it means to be black?
Do you know what it means to work day and night
And not be cut some slack?
Do you know how it feels
To live in a shack?
Do you know how it feels
To strive to survive
Until you resort to crack?
No, you wouldn’t know because
You don’t give jack!
You don’t know the first thing about being black
Hence when you talk,
I talk back!

“Hands up where I can see ‘em
‘Cause I don’t trust you people!”
I say you better stay where I can’t see you
‘Cause I don’t trust myself.
You better be where they can protect you
‘Cause if I see you,
I won’t be able to stop myself

If I can fight for food,
If I can fight for shelter,
If I can fight for a pill for my ill,
I can definitely fight you off my land
And YES, I will fight
For Africa to belong to Africans
And yes, it is because I’m black.