Suvan Chowdhury/Pexels

The Rap game will never be the same,

That Poetry you sang,

For a young Black man,

Back in the day.

It was a code,

To talk about oppression.

And how else could we stand,

Without a Beat of one?

Now lost to the sound,

Of “got” “got” “got” — Dead.

How will I kill that brother,

Who used my daughter, sisters and mother,

About the money you never spent or gave up?

A Rap line to the Revolution,

The Revolution will be televised,

For all eyes to see the deaths in our cities,

And my brother’s blood run Red, Black, American.

If they only could see,

that rainbow of Brown people,

one day coming to gather in Peace.

For where did the words go that were,

“Rap in peace?”

All the challenges of the Rapper

and the Poets who sing their songs.

Can we forget the thoughts

the words produce?

Can you still feel the beat I Rap to you this day?

White supremacists, Neo-Nazis and the new KKK

unmasked and carrying torches in Charlottesville Va.

As they spread words of hate and bigotry

Do justice matter? I Rap to stand for it.

The lies they tell on the people,

Sometimes make me so mad I could cry,

But I won’t Rap words that lie,

Or glorify my brother’s death,

I Rap for that Beat of one who knows The code of what you Rap.