I’m not Black,
So I will never understand,
My skin allows me to hold something in my hand,
And for the police to not see it as a threat,
See Me as a threat,

While I was born with a shield,
They were born with a target,
I’ve never had to fear,
That my blood will paint the ground scarlet,

My friend wasn’t shot,
My father wasn’t choked,
But that’s what’s happening to the Black folks,

My sister didn’t die while crying, “Officer please,”
I’ve never been yelled at to “Get Down” and “Freeze,”

I’m lucky.

My skin doesn’t fight me,
If I die, my skin won’t be the reason they’re crying,

Yes, I am dark but at least my ancestors weren’t locked up in a ship and taken here,

And forced to pick cotton,
While the white men took the profit,

And when they were released,
They didn’t have fewer rights than dirt,
I’m not lying.

Because even if we try to hide it in a dark room,
It’ll only grow brighter and brighter, it’s true,
Till it blinds us,
‘Cause they lied to us.

In school, I was never taught,
‘Bout the Black men that were caught,
Doing crimes they never did,
But still were taken from their kids,

And a sorry, a simple apology will not help dress the wounds,
The bruises turning purple and blue,

On thousands of innocents, whose lives were ripped away from them,
They never wanted to die.
Korchinski-Paquet never wanted to die,
But still, that’s the cover-up, that’s the lie.

You can beat us, you can cheat us,
But bullets and tear gas won’t stop us.
This is a revolution, so listen up,
We gotta get rid of all this hate if we even want a chance at love.