I tie the laces to my shoes the same as any
afternoon
And set foot between the walls and your halls
and deserted rooms
What’s up kids, I’m here to speak at your
alternative school
Seems your luck don’ got you stuck in
academic servitude
With less than words to use or choose, a lot
more than nerves to lose
It’s cool to turn pissed when your teacher’s
a stern prick
Skip class and hit more pipes than Bob
Burnquist
Taught ya to accept the phrase that life
isn’t a game
While the future warden’s blueprintin’
prisons in your name
He’s in the high school next door top’n the
test scores
With nothin’ to stress for except the gas in
daddy’s Escort
Born on third base and coulda swore he hit a
triple
Workin’ with a full drumkit, while all ya got
is a cymbal
Oh, you’d love to take it to’em for all that
you been through
Between a rock and a principal’s office- Los
in limbo
Tell me, was it your childhood dream to put
on a mask
And give a lap or a tap dance for somebody
else’s cash
Makes you wanna cut until you hit a vein
Makes you wanna stand up for the words
sittin’ in your brain
But you can’t take the master’s house with
tools from the master’s toolshed
You’ll have to paint without your whites,
blues, or reds
Until the day you drop out or graduate
Enjoy the free sandwich out the
b-b-b-b-b-b-bag
I don’t wanna see another genius defeated
‘Cos someboday taught’em lies as a
f-f-f-f-f-f-fact
Life’s a freestyle, go on and make it up
Skateboardin’, smokin’ and breakin’ stuff
Skateboardin’, smokin’ and breakin stuff
Fresh out of 38th st. with love
-
CHORUS
If the day’s a wage
And life is war
Then
What are you alive for
Now, ‘cos I stay where I’m from
Don’t mean that I ain’t gon’ come up
‘Cos I grow where I’m from
Planted where I stand- planted where I stand
-
If you’re from where I’m from then give it up
Where either your dad’s a drunk or your dad
doesn’t give a-
Maybe he’s both like mine, only good for
puttin’ forth
And great example of a father that I’d never
like to be
Family’s turn to jail cells and even pickin’
locks can’t help
Nobody’s listenin’, so you have to fight to
speak
Light a fire to make’em see, runaway to prove
a point
Grab a blunt, a spray can and a black to
steal some joy
We feel destroyed for nothin’ in a battle of
decoys
In a lost culture, forgotten B-girls gave
birth to B-boys
We leave a void in the presence of authority
The history they don’t teach is their way of
avoidin’ it
Now, as the schoolhouse rocks steady with
hegemony
It makes you wonder if unemployment has a
pre-destiny
You rest your eyes upon anywhere else
And set your heart on everything outside yourself
Detention-daydreamin’ of pieces fittin’ the
frame
Urban romances, slow dancin’, kissin’ in the
rain
Lovely livin’ the day without riskin’ a thing
For someone to look you in the eye and listen
to what you say
But you’re lost and forgot who you’re explainin’
yourself to
Alternative to what? And alternative to who?
(Yes, you’re now listenin’ to the undermined,
blue collar, workin’-class sounds of The Blend. Ladies and gentlemen, b-boys
and b-girls please unlearn while you can.)
CHORUS
Get free or get a degree
Or get both and hope to God you don’t end up
like me
A twenty-somethin, good for nothin’, gum
bumpin’, bar jumpin’
Non-student-loan-payment-makin’,
coffeeshop-slumpin
Broken-home representative in the land of
Longfellow
Survivalist or not? That depends on what you
call ghetto
Workin’-class, blue collar, failure amongst
scholars
Urban program, suspended, left behind
condemned to follow
Had ya
tracked since smokin’ packs at recess
Called up the summer school and they save
your seat and desk
Now, if ya got it then get into it
They’d rather see ya high-strung out on
depressants and stimulants
Than addicted and hooked-on Malcolm and Marx
It starts with a shout in the dark- they
wonder why we yell
When they don’t listen, we stop listenin’ to
ourselves
Wanderin’ hallways and monotonous class
schedules
Left to speak through silence and reverse
psychology
It’s like these teachers are getting’ hired
and paid and praised to fuck with me
There’s no luckily, there’s no duck and weave
Advisors advise ya to chillax and just
breathe
To kill your questions, to erase your anger
To unboil your heart, to sanitize your
language
Upon these moments, do not dare be hesitant
For the beast will leave you in the realms of
irrelevant
Ranked by class grades when already eminent
So all the school can do for you is insult
your intelligence
College students hold discussion groups of
what you’re goin’ through
But never wanna hold a discussion about their
own shoes
Letter to the editor, professor and principal
Don’t fuck with a mind state that you haven’t
been to
Don’t fuck with a culture that you don’t live
through
Taking authority from a situation you don’t
give to
These words and expectations run adjacent
Until you’re educatin’ how the rich stay rich
Dear, Deerview- please check the rearview
And keep an eye on where these snakes try and
steer you
Well, it’s been a fine visit on this rhyme
clinic
Enjoy your day in RedWing, it’s been a fine
visit
And there’s no such thing as kings
It’s just a term invented by men to undermine
queens
Have a nice day in class…
