Lyrics

[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