History (I Won't Give Up)

I had a horrible dream last night. It was 1968 and I was somewhere in the South, it was a hot humid and sticky day the sweat just kind of stood still on my skin and my mouth was as dry as the California desert in the dog days of the summer. I was down to my last two bucks and it was hard for me as a black man to get any meaningful work. I saw a sign that said that the local sheriff's office was hiring new officers. I always hated the way the police treated my people so I decided the best way to change things would be to get in and assert my views an offer some balance.

I walked into the sheriff's office and immediately all eyes were on me. The room went silent and you could hear a rat pissin' on cotton. My dark chocolate skin and my bold jaw line complimented my broad nose and my full lips. I opened my mouth and simply said, "I'm here to apply for a job as an officer." Reluctantly I was given an application and I quickly filled it out and returned it to the officer on duty.

One week later I was a cadet at the sheriff's camp. I don't know why they accepted me because it was clear from day one that they didn't want me here. Nothing I did was right. They tried everything they could to make my life and drills a living hell and have me quit but they could not break me. Then one morning we were out on the field for physical training drills. I knew I didn't feel well but of course I had to act as if I was fine. Try as I may to keep up, the more drills we did the sicker I got. I don't know what was wrong with me, it's all a blur now. All I remember is that on one of my laps that I was running I was suddenly surrounded by my superiors. They began to berate me, brow beat me and push and shove on me. I can't recall exactly how many it was because I was so sick. At that point that I could barely stand but I do know it was at least five men.

They begin to enjoy the pain they were inflicted on me as if every blow represented the resentment of me and my people. As if I had somehow harmed them in my past life. Remember they never wanted me here anyway. It's 1968 in the South and I'm a progressive black man surrounded by five racist, oppressive white men. My breathing is becoming labored and my arms and legs have gone limp. The only thing holding me up is the barrage of stinging, pounding punches to my flesh from my fellow officers and their collective hands around my neck that are choking the breath of life out of me. Finally someone has mercy and allows my body to fall to the ground. Then to my chagrin I begin to feel excruciating pain in my kidneys and my spleen. The pain is coming from the soles of their boots as they continuously kick me closer into the arms of death. Suddenly I think it's over as I'm picked up and held in the arms of a man whom I hoped one day to work along side as a partner and then he too punches me and I begin my descent towards the ground and into the arms of Jesus. In death I am hurting more than in life because this hold incident was recorded on video tape and people are watching me die over and over again and are denying the truth of what they are witnessing.

Please allow me the dignity to rest in peace. Allow my family to mourn. Allow my People the justice they demand here in the land of the free. Allow my soul to sing the praises of God. For this is not 1968 and this is not a dream but my reality in the year 2006. I'm fourteen years old and I have been murdered by the hands of authority at the sheriff's camp.

These are the lyrics from my song, History ( I won't give up), from my upcoming album "Look Look Look" (Look3x).

The evil that men do they make moves like voodoo/
sittin' on the sidelines hoping and praying that somebody do you/
Never contemplating that somebody would school you/
Fuse melody rhythm and flow and work wit it like a tool/
You should know by now the oppressed man is not a fool/
Sign of the times evident from Elvis to Eminem don't be cruel/
It's a sham/ a scam /an old boy flim flam
No matter how you twist it up I know who I am/
I refuse to be a product of everything you feeding me/
Cause all you makin' available is smoke drank and the illusion of ecstasy/
It's ecstasy when I sit back with my eyes shut tight/
Soarin' through a world full of freedom like shooting stars in the night/
My spirit will not be broken/ my faith will not be shakin'/
Give it how you give it man I won't give up I gots to make it/

Chorus

I won't give up on my life
I won't give up it's my life
I won't give up on my life
I won't give up it's my life

It's something bout the way I post up and I walk/
It leaves you flabbergasted tongue tied and you can't talk/
you intimidated by the way miss Missy keep peeping at me/
You wanna put me in a cell with no bail and lock me away for a quarter century/
My first mistake was I didn't stay awake/
I should have paid attention when you fed me the crumbs up off your plate/
Honestly I did not understand/
I was still trying to comprehend the implications of that long trip man/
It was so complex with disrespect that I didn't know what I should feel/
I was a king in my village but now I'm serving you your meals/
That was so devastating and yet is so ironic/
I'm geographically isolated to the point I want to vomit/
But I won't and I don't cause now I'm feeling alright/
You can't comprehend the light/ my eternal sight/ mind so bright/ I'm
focused and walking in the light/
And I won't give up/ I won't give up

Chorus

I won't give up on my life
I won't give up it's my life
I won't give up on my life
I won't give up it's my life

From my transgressions and indiscretion I've learned many lessons/
A wife children and family are multiple blessings/
History is his story repeated/
I'ma put it down and y'all make show that you read it/
The criminal minded lawyers have control of the switch/
I'm scientifically inclined but to eat I gots to dig a ditch/
I got mandatory witnesses of the these mandatory sentences/
This is genocide as a law and it's mandatory we end this/
How low will you go below yo ego before you know/
If you keep on doin' this to ours we gone end up doin' it to yours/
Where is the rehabilitation in a nation full of accusations?/
Twentyfive wit an L and three strikes is equivalent to strangulation/
My astonishment is for the punishment as a curse upon my people/
The crime plus the time the punishment must be equal/
Mandatory lies/ mandatory lies/ mandatory sentences/ mandatories die/
I won't give up

Chorus

I won't give up on my life
I won't give up it's my life
I won't give up on my life
I won't give up it's my life

--Hammertime
From my sidekick