I was given my fifteen minutes of fame
Now compare it with these twenty-eight years of shame
Living ghetto fabulous was hazardous; it’s called a crime
Looking for freedom and liberation from this paused time
Fossilized personalities, mentalities that want to grow
Where fat lockers and pressed whites make the highest of the low
Conforming to rules that aren’t rules but sensory deprivation
Making it easier to keep us docile in our situation
I’ve done changed from the old and I strive to keep doing better
I’ve wrote the judge, D.A., even the governor a letter
No one answered back; they don’t care or understand who really knows
I know that if I was rich and white they’d respond, even if this ain’t prose

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