Artist: Hard Knocks Album: School of Hard Knocks Song: Thoughts of a Negro Typed by: jostmatt@bluewin.ch (with help from liner notes) (...problem with 'negro' was not the word itself It was that a stereotype had been attached to that word 'negro' and that people were forced to live in accords to that stereotype) Stereotype me, dislike me or fight me My hustle is hip-hop, you can't indict me Behind the light of intelligence Critics will probably say the title's irrelevant But the powerful fail to see the battle being fought Wise words verbally put forth from negro thoughts It's critical, the news programs of pitiful Sights and sounds of a negro's background First fired, last hired Granny picked cotton till she died, what a way to retire Watermelon's sellin but the seeds are black I don't spit em out, I plant em so they come back Music of soul cause my lyrics are funky You stereotype we're the offspring of monkeys I tie ya up and gag ya mouth with cornbread And lead ya the bright way, seems ya been mislead I enter the store on one thought - to purchase They follow me around like a muthafuckin hostess I see what I want, but before I can step to They're up in my face, "Sir, can I help you?" Out of step they seem to be with reality Needless to say I represent a nationality That's been linked to a Kodak Once truth is exposed, negatives can't be kept back Couldn't take us for what we has, took us for what we had KKK - 3 kicks up the ass All anti-negros ground is sinking sand Painting false and visionary pictures Revolting language bound to mentally hitcha Stand still while I'm talkin From abstract thoughts fingers completed the walkin These are Thoughts of a Negro (Wonder, wonder) (Blinkin I'm thinkin) Alone on the corner, awaiting a red light A van pulls up, the passengers are white My feet's in progress, are my ears deceivin me? I pause and down came the locks on the doors A typical stereotypical outlook How could a man's color betray him as a crook? I'm on Amtrak, enroute to Atlanta In first row, drinkin a grape Fanta Dressed to impress and I'm a walkin jewelry store I'm gettin lynchin looks from the conductor Sweatin my jewels but it's cool He's not the first or the last to Learn first class was made for a black ass Fuck the back, it's '91, jack Another thought I render to be evident Would I be treated equally if we had a black president? In this race everyday's suspense From death to seein infants born as chemical dependents Skillfully prepared for a ignorant war But all I encounter I express through metaphors Like 'nigga', 'black', 'negro' 3 five letter words to describe me, bro Even excepting we make good athletes And in bed knowin no other culture can compete So let's get right down to it Those who now accept it always knew it These are Thoughts of a Negro (Wonder, wonder) (Blinkin I'm thinkin) I try to make it hard for them to hate me Alienate me, you still gotta face me But I ain't the stereotype Understand what I'm sayin or do all niggas sound alike? Rap's the trade so it's made to live good My neighbor's kids are sayin, "There goes the neighborhood" And their dog comes in my yard and takes a shit Then barks like tellin me, "Clean it" But I made em all believers Hit their daughters with a dose of this jungle fever It was undercover but her parents discovered Turned her out, now forever she's a nigger lover I never feed into the stuff about the other man Cause my destiny is planned around a mic stand At the table of brotherhood I sit Calling preachers, wisemen and prophets To unravel the riddle of our existence Domestic relations and those of distance I'm hearin the same statements I feel are prejudiced One day blacks will rise on their side of the fence Stories still spread through history books in groups Tampering with truth, telling tales of twisted roots Stereotypes living lives of illusions Leapin to their death, jumping to confusions I see what I'm faced with, racist congregations Lord be merciful to a helpless nation These are Thoughts of a Negro (Wonder, wonder) (Blinkin I'm thinkin)