[Verse]
The musician is the document
An aural transcription of experience and perception
Through the vantage point of self
And if music is the message for the Negro
The music is the Black critic
It's our tool to analyse the ignorance
Behind the face of the malignant genius
The depth behind the blurred perception
And the rhythm of the enigma
This minstrel dance took centuries to develop
But as creation exposes the prodigious clockwork
Behind racism and hate in western society
Have we learnt anything?
Do we know who we are and where we belong?
Does our skin reasonably elicit fear and negative judgement
Can we uniformly agree that my culture is far from uniform?
If my Blackness is a costume fabricated by stereotypes
What symbolizes my true identity?
Eugenically speaking, the Blacks are less evolved creatures and therefore not subject to humane treatment
We've been given an ever-changing bag of duplicitous euphemism to choose from
But do they really define me?
Under the presumption that my Blackness has no colour
And under the belief that we are the nameless heroes of America
I present to you, the document
Revisionist History Volume 1