There are so many things 
As Blacks we do wrong 
There are so many reasons 
We have suffered so long 

We seem out of touch 
From the fight we once had 
Our Black movement days 
Have ceased and that's sad 

The battles and triumphs 
That we struggle to gain 
To win back our freedom 
Has gone down the drain 

Our past demonstrations 
When we marched for our rights 
Now fade into darkness 
Like cold silent nights 

I don’t understand 
Black families today 
The drinking and drugs 
Our violent display 

We have weakened our growth 
Without hope to expand 
We seem destine to die 
On poor Ghetto land 

Our youth show no pride 
And don't want to learn 
Their language is foul 
Black direction has turned 

They dress like street thugs 
No respect and no class 
Their musical lyrics 
Uncensored with trash 

We traded our struggle 
For Ebonics and guns 
No leaders to guide 
Black Daughters and Sons 

The slave master’s color 
Once White have turned Black 
For we use the “N” word 
Like a whip to our back 

It seems we don’t want 
What others have found 
Nice homes and success 
A peaceful clean town 

Instead we succumb 
To crime and bad streets 
To Slums and to Jails 
And that curse of defeat 

Our future seems grim 
And we lack self-esteem 
We lost Martin’s words 
To I have a Dream 

If we don’t seek new change 
To this life we persist 
We will cause our own slavery 
And then cease to exist 

Black days will be numbered 
As we fall far behind 
To a prosperous world 
With our wasted Black mind