This is my soul, this is my life, this is my race.
I’m chained by my color, I’m denied my destiny.
Young, youthful, my skittle, soda,
I cry mama!
Under this cold moony night I was
Chased and shot
This was not my time,
But was I a symbol, hooded up?
The same damn thing, over and over!
One voice clustered in hope,
Screaming for freedom that seems to fade every time,
I’m Chase and shot.
I cry for justice, we cry freedom.
An illusion, denial;
The evidence, acquittal, self-defense, profiling!
I was chased and shot!
History repeats itself again.
Countless times our blood stains the streets,
And green grasses of our mothers loans
Either by our brothers or the neighbor claiming self-defense,
And angry mobs roam the streets
Nagging and weeping…
An temporary outbursts of cries for justice.
Even the law will chase and shoot you,
If you are found in front of the gun,
And decades of fight for equality resume from Zero,
Beginning at the starting line once more.
But if this is true, whatever the outcome,
Peace, justices, equality, revolution, freedom,
There is nothing to revive my existence
And wipe my mothers tears.