25 and Alive

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25, 25, will you make it out alive?
Do you have the tools to survive?
So many of us start to wonder why
They think we’ll cheat, steal and lie
or even think we’re old enough to die.
Statistically speaking, time is ticking
And they’re waiting for you to slip up,
For you to fill your cup a little too much.

They say you exude the wrong kind of swag
Because of the way your pants sag.
So, then you start to ask yourself
what could I possibly be doing wrong?
Is it because I listen to those songs?
Is it because my dreadlocks are long?

You worked hard to get a college degree,
So you can become whatever you choose to be.
But that may not even set you apart,
Long as you’re part of the color chart.
So, the you reminisce on this prejudice
and wonder how our ancestors dealt with this.

25, 25, they say it must be why our mothers
Continue to pray that we’ll see another day.
They told us to forget about the glitz & glamour,
It’s best to put on our suit of armors,
Because it’s going to be a war out there.
Although, people will stop and stare,
Not all of them will actually care.

25, 25, will you be just another statistic ?
These expectations are unrealistic.
They’ll stop to ask if that’s your car?
And then they’ll question who you really are.
They will try to put you through hell,
but the minute that you start to rebel,
you’re shown the inside of a prison cell.

You have been given all the warning signs.
So, you decide whether you’ll cross the line
or risk paying all those unjust fines.
One day, you’ll have to express your voice,
Show them that you know the right choice,
In hopes that your loved ones can rejoice.
So, do you have what it takes to survive?
Do you think you’ll make it out alive?

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