Yeah, it's gettin' wild out here



It makes me wonder how a black man could ever raise a child out here



You know the old krumbsnatcha's in this land of decay



So why we killin' for the crumbs when there's so much to stay?



We're no longer suposed to be slaves



I bet Harriet Tubman will be turnin' in her grave



Like remind my soul







Of the time we were great before the self hate







My elders all feel the same there's no bravery



We're suposed to fight for freedom not just the end of slavery



Are we too selfish to even bless the kids with jewels



So our youth don't get played out for fools?



Will they get program how to behave?



Malcolm X must be turnin' in his grave



Like remind my soul







Of the time we were great before the self hate



The time we were great before the self hate (x3)



The time we were great



Wait, we still great, but







I met up with this dread, said "Peace, Respect"



To set respect and not seen that around here yet



Black man kill himself for limited amount of wealth



And them disrespecting women saw him disrespect himself



I agree for what the dread haven't get off of his chest



Bob Marley will be disturbed from his rest



Like remind my soul







Of the time we were great before the self hate







Can't work a dead end 9 to 5 for what



To be another victim of social security cuts?



I gotta cut myself from the chains and run free



Empower myself to be my own authority



People die so I don't have to be a runaway slave



Nat Turner must be turnin' in his grave



Like remind my soul







Of the time we were great before the self hate



The time we were great before the self hate (x3)



The time we were great



Wait, we still great, but







We thought to worship these rappers and athletes and actors



Many who think they better in the walk right passed ya



It's what you do off camera and off the court



That really makes you worthy of the people support



But some brothers get those millions and forget how to behave



Arther Ashe must be turnin' in his grave



Like remind my soul







Of the time we were great before the self hate







We crabs in a barrel, you ain't gettin out until I do first



And that's why the guns burst



Whatever happened to strenght in numbers?



Some of the greatest minds on the planet are among us



But so many start on strugglin' and never get saved



Man, Martin must be turnin' in his grave



Like remind my soul







Of the time we were great before the self hate



The time we were great before the self hate (x3)



The time we were great







Remind my soul



Of the time we were great before the self hate yo



Yeah