Good Mourning Black AmericaAdd-2

[Intro: Muhammad Ali interview clip]
Things are getting much better but I always wondered when I went to church on Sundays, I've always been one to -- I'm not just a boxer, I do a lot of reading, a lot of studying, I ask questions and go out travel to lots of countries and watch how their people live
And I always ask my mother, I say "Mother, how come is everything white?" I say "Why is Jesus white with blond hair and blue eyes? Why is the last supper all white men? And angels are white, Mary and every- even the angels." I said "Mama, when we die do we go to Heaven?"
She said "Naturally we go to Heaven"
I said "What happened to all the black Angels?
"They took the pictures"

[Verse: Add-2]
Gather round black men, that's if you still living
I know that some are sittin' 'side a private prison
I know that some are strung out on drug dealing
Crooked system victims and they tryna keep us in it
Cats catch cases like caching a interception
Everyday receiving letters but failing to get the message
Misguided males that follow a false perception
Stare inside the mirror and barely see their own reflection
Black man, black man, do you know who you are?
Do you know you a king? Can you see you a star?
Do you know that you created in the image of God?
You a leader, that's why they always follow your car
What's the problem Mr. Officer, what crime has been committed?
Who gave you this description and convinced you that I fit it?
Is it the colour of my skin or my fitted?
Ain't nothing changed from Trayvon to Emmitt
So good mourning black America
I said good mourning black America

I said good mourning black America
This the type of terror that's tearing us and I'm scared for the children that we'll be burying
No names for graduations, just names for obituaries
Instead of tucked in their beds they're sleeping in cemeteries
It's scary cause in a sense our innocence is lost
My inner sense ain't in it since it was gone
Look at all this nigga shit that we on
Killing over corners, but tell me what do we own?
I'll wait
I'll wait
You see I write about [plat?] like I'm tryna right every wrong
Like every verse is a poem and my pieces are not a pawn
Cause some would catch a body if I hand them an arm
Won't weigh the pros and cons cause all the pros is cons
Reverend Al only show up when the camera's on
Jesse only show up when the camera's on
Obama only show up when the camera's on
It make sense, actors leave when the camera's gone
I know some kids who write wills at seven
Living in this hell with plans of seeing heaven
Leaving toys to his sister and kisses for his mother
His middle finger's only thing he's leaving for his father
If he live to be a man I pray he end up as a better one
Tryna be a man with no example he can learn it from
Some stick up nuns quick to pick up funds
Niggas pick up guns 'fore they pick up sons
That's why I try to teach 'em but the teachers ain't teaching
Followers on Twitter but there ain't nobody leading
See the bullshit they feed us? They don't value black life
Cause we act like we don't value black life neither
So good mourning Black America
Is that too real?
I said good mourning black America

I'm more Malcolm, my mama wish I was more Martin
I'm more cautious cause more often we're sure targets
The stock market said invest in some black coffins
My homies known for more trash than McCauley Caulkin
I'm coughin', my homie sparking, we talkin', I'm tryna tell him
That Uncle Sam supplying the same drugs he selling
They raid and arrest him, turn you into a felon
Recirculating your stash, they sell a shorty your dirty weapon
Polaroid, it take a minute to get the picture
Picture the poor like portraits or like a porn picture
Hitting the dirt like liquor for all the fallen niggas
They point a gun to our head and let us pull the trigger
Good mourning black America
Good mourning black America
I said good mourning black America
I said good mourning black America
Goodnight

[Outro: Add-2]
To be poor
You can be financially poor
You can be poor in health
But the worst thing you can be
Is poor in spirit