Rocking my body to Tupac with a side of Maya
Traveling through the underground trail to bring us into mainstream life
Swaying to Luther Van-D never too much to talk about at the black board
A journey into time examining Harriet’s toes bloody and bare
I sway to the beat box of African faces singing songs of the revolution
A Brush with death hung on a tree to rubber necks shocked into silence.
I dance it out with Common and the lyrics of a generation paying tribute.
A March that ebbs and flows but is never done in the backdrop of breathe to air.
Drumming it out adding a bit of salsa to the djembe that the middle passage made music.