I'm in this slave field running...gunning for my life...
the life of my wife and kids...
coming against trifling bids for my black potency...
See I am intellectually murderous...
and if living for Christ means a death sentence them give me the gas first.
In my last verse I was in the slave field running so let me continue...
Every place my feet land stands as the typical venue.
The grand jury stands as the enemies around me...
stereotyping me at birth saying that my worth is around 3...
on a scale of 1 to 10...at least that is what my enemies say...
I'm in this slave field running with the heart
of Martin and Marcus GA-R-V-E--Why am I stereotyped...
I don't fit descriptions...Yeah I'm a black male mid 20's
but I got a vision and a mission.
I'm in this...slave field living where I get strange looks...
in banks, stores and even the church but I don't bite the bait on hooks.
I get high off of books and I pray for crooks,
and I stop and write poetry by nubian brooks.
I'm in this slave field running, ducking, bobbing and weaving...
believing in Christ only because satan's tactics are so deceiving.
I'm leaving a scent on my clothes for my son's nose
and close the gate behind me so my enemies can't find me.
My feet are blistered...I got lacerations from walking on eggshells,
and this political poison ivy is making my feet swell.
My running reduced to jogging, my jogging reduced to walking,
my walking reduced to crawling on my hands and knees...
underneath crucifix trees...demanding "If it be Thou will,
please God remove these curses from my seed."
I need direction. I need wisdom and discretion.
I need patience to show love to enemies befriending me.
Reveal to me my Judas's as I travel through underground railroads,
so I can know the ones who will kiss my cheek and then sell my soul for gold.
I need the strength of a lion...The meekness of a lamb...
The speed of a young cheetah...
I need a spear in my hand. I need a shield like ZULU fighters
and a torch to ignite flames...
I'm in this slave field working hard to keep a good name...For my seed's seed.
I bleed righteous blood and use Christ's blood for a transfusion
so I can't infected with confusion.
I'm using what God gave me...strength, love and wisdom,
and keep running through these fields until I reach the kingdom.
Songs of freedom, I sing them...In my soul I keep a new tone
and I walk on strange territory and call it my own.
I'm in this slave field running...but I'm free.
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