In 1600 I was a darkie
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Until 1865, a slave
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In 1900 I was a nigger
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Or at least, that was my name
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In 1960 I was a negro
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And then brother Malcom came along
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And then some nigger shot Malcom down
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But the bitter truth lives on
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Martin is dead
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With Martin as our leader
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We prayed, and marched
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And marched, and prayed
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Things were changing
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Things were getting better
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But things were not together
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With Malcom as our leader,
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We learned
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And thought
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And thought we had learned
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Things were better
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Things were changing
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But things were not together
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And now it is your turn,
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We are tired of praying, and marching, and thinking, and learning
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Brothers wanna start cutting, and shooting, and stealing, and burning
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You are three hundred years ahead in equality
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But next summer may be too late
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To look back
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In 1600 I was a darkie
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And until 1865 a slave
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In 1900 I was a nigger
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Or at least that was my name
|
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In 1960 I was a negro
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And then Malcom came along
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Yes, but some nigger shot Malcom down
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Though the bitter truth lives on
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Well now I am a black man
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And though I still go second class
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Where as once I wanted the white man's love
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Now he can kiss my ass
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Evolution (And Flashback)
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Gil Scott-Heron |