Strange Fruition

It's the belly of the beast, when we knock nobody's home,

affectin' little kids when they hear us drop a poem,

who sittin' in their rooms, probably feelin' all alone,

until the shit comes on, and it plays they favorite song,

and maybe they just hear somethin' that just sounds wrong,

hearin' "pop a nigga, smack a bitch, and get stoned",

and it runs up though their brains and relaxes in their dome,

'till that music is imprinted on 'em, programmed like a drone,

and music's about lettin' freedom reign like water drops,

for blacks and the whites, but these kids hear us slaughter cops,

how do you think that sounds when they turn on and listen,

is that the way we sell out just get some recognition?

but music is a power like a diamond when it glistens,

supposed to be an outlet for emotions and the kids then,

it all just goes South 'till they make these bad decisions,

cooked up by a broken home and music with precision,

so just listen

 

Strange fruit, that's the truth, I spit it in the booth,

and say it in a rhyme for the future of our youth,

refuse to even try and just go back to our roots,

we challenge the system when it bears strange fruit

 

And this shit is not about the music and its bad decisions,

it's just about the people being trapped up in our system,

the blacks and the poor and the women given grief,

the people saw the carpet bein' pulled out from beneath,

and people holler "soft", when they hear me scream "peace",

just trying to link this music and its roots in the streets,

they took the "freed" and then hanged 'em up in the trees,

the strange fruit, crops growin', blowin' in the breeze,

the burning flesh and twisted mouth and blood on the leaves,

those same Southern trees where the rage still leaks,

the hate that caused the conflicts that turned up brothers,

who purely loved each other and then killed one another,

divided families and tore 'em up and saddened mothers,

who thought that light could shine on a spot in the gutter,

but the gutter's where the stuck, the system flush 'em out,

the same truth that ignorant folks just knew nothin' 'bout,

no doubt

 

Strange fruit, that's the truth, I spit it in the booth,

and say it in a rhyme for the future of our youth,

refuse to even try and just go back to our roots,

we challenge the system when it bears strange fruit

 

You stomped on the blacks, took 'em, made it harder,

discriminated housing and then took away their fathers,

dual-earning whites went and took suburban flight,

which turned cities into ghettoes with the urban plight,

cards are stacked like casinos, and bald us like chemo,

man our soldiers ain't white, they all black and Latino,

the flag that enslaved 'em, now they pledge allegiance,

and where's the reparations, 40 acres in a agreement,

and people are so ignorant that they don't even see it,

refuse to hear a commentary whenever I'm speakin',

the stand your ground laws, Jim Crow, just as racist,

reminds you of the faces, Trayvon Martin, Jordan Davis,

cops frisk with the Glock clips, now they stop and freeze,

that reminds me of the bodies from them poplar trees,

you can't even try and question what was given to you,

and how the fuck you kill the system when you live in it too?

strange fruit

 

Strange fruit, that's the truth, I spit it in the booth,

and say it in a rhyme for the future of our youth,

refuse to even try and just go back to our roots,

we challenge the system when it bears strange fruit