I'm speaking, I'm speaking, okay?
Silent no more
The blood of our people arising from the shores
Ascending from the sand
Straight to our hands
Dripping from our fingertips
Yelling, kicking, screaming, and dreaming
See, they were here and know they're gone
And we didn't even have to say so long
Because they gave us the blueprint
Sat in, marched, slaughtered, and lynched for this shit
But we'd rather sit around, get money, clout chase, and gloat
Everybody got time, everybody want smoke
You can tweet and you can type, but did you motherfuckers vote?
I dare you to vote
I dare you to leave the trap
I dare you to learn more about your credit score
I dare you to know less about sports and own more houses and stores
Own some shit you could really call yours
'Cause, news flash, it ain't really your hood if you don't own no doors

I dare you to rap about anything but your pussy
Or how good you suck his-
How good you look and how tight your Fashion Nova fit
I remember when rap queens really used to spit
Like really used to kick shit
Would look you dead in the face and ask you, "Who you calling a bitch?"
But now it's just so wet, how wet is it?
Is it as wet as our ancestors who were thrown over boat to drown, soaking wet?
Like sweat beads running down Harriet's neck?
Wet like immigrants swimming across borders until freedom?
Is it wet like Tamika Mallory's back
As she marched down to Louisville, Kentucky for Breonna Taylor
As she put her life on the front line?
Not knowing if it would be her last time
How wet is it?

'Cause Breonna Taylor was here
George Floyd was here
Ahmaud Arbery was here
Rayshard Brooks was here
Ronald Green was here
Elijah McClain was here
Jamarion Robinson was here
And now they're gone
And we didn't even get the chance to say so long

Copyright: Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Writer(s): Clifford Joseph Harris, Ernestine Johnson Morrison