Leave Their Caskets Open

We cant say hey baby to their woman. But they can rape ours
We cant say hey baby to their woman. But they can rape ours
Cause that’s exactly what happened in Money, Mississippi
At the age of 14 Emmit Tilll, was murdered by middle age white man for whistling at their woman
Never mind the only reason why this young black predecessor of slavery is in this country is because of them
Because his grandmother got raped by their grandfathers, so you tell me, was it fair for young Emitt Till to be slaughtered
Im glad mama left the casket open, I can still see the little boys disfigured face, and it looks a lot like mine

Oakland California, Oscar Grant is shot in the back by police man at a subway station
Lying their on the ground, this police brutality has become the modern day lynching
And our justice system turns their rosey white cheeks, never ask the victim to speak, equit these former masters of slavery.
This whole conspiracy ish, now doesn’t seem so crazy

They know damn well what their doing when they shoot Sean Bell 50 times
Every bullet piercing his body inserts new sensations of hate, pushed in with the liquid of 18th century atlantic waters that brought slave ships here
Every bullet left his wife standing alone at the alter, next to emitt tills open casket
I couldn’t imagine the poor black widows pain, I couldn’t grasp it
Wedding bells ringing to the tune of hearse horn with one pull of a trigger
Every shot, the pain gets bigger, leaving Malcolm and Martin turning in their grave
I want justice

I want liberty bills ringing to the tune of tupac lyrics, Malcolm x speeches and martin luther dreams
Not gun clips exploding into the night sky
Sparks igniting flames that burned Mississippi
Naturally boiled southern hate oozing out the trigger mans finger tips, like chitlins spilling from spoons on a hot Georgia day
Emitt Till, Oscar Grant, Sean Bell, for the mother left in Chicago, the fatherless child left in Oakland, and the widow in New York, I pray
They have all secured a spot in my soul that has survived jim crow, where they will stay

Cell phone cameras caught the hanis act, but videos doesn’t mean anything these days if your black
The only videos they need to see, are the ones that play continuously on bet
Not Rodney king
So they assume we are ignorant petty fools, shooting us, on subway trains that little boys ride to school

Murdering our sorrow, ruining tomorrow, casting dark clouds in are already dark sky
We live in a different world
But somehow their bullets seem to still enter

I cry for these three men, and my tears stream faster then when their lives were took
I will never look at white woman the same, I will never look at bart trains the same, I will never look at bachelor parties the same
From these three things, I swear to refrain, I simply don’t want to die
So I close my left eye, and with my right I see the bloody truth, these men need to stop killing our youth
I want justice
R.I.P
Black Men
I love you
You are me