Assata Shakur - The Tradition lyrics

Carry it on now. Carry it on. Carry it on now. Carry it on. Carry on the tradition. Their were Black People since the childhood of time who carried it on. In Ghana and Mali and Timbuktu We carried it on. Carried on the tradition. We hid in the bush. When the slave masters came holding spear And when the moment was ripe, leaped out and lanced the lifeblood of our would-be masters. We carried it on. On slave ships, hurling ourselves into oceans. Slitting the throats of our captors. We took their whips. And their ships Blood flowed in the Atlantic and it wasn't all ours. We carried it on. Fed Missy arsenic apple pies. Stole the axes from the shed. Went and chopped off master's head. We ran. We fought. We organized a railroad. An underground. We carried it on. In newspapers. In meetings. In arguments and street fights. We carried it on. In tales told to children. In chants and cantatas. In poems and blues songs and saxophone screams, We carried it on. In cla**rooms. In churches. In courtrooms. In prisons. We carried it on. On soapboxes and picket lines. Welfare lines, unemployment Our lives on the line, We carried it on. In sit-ins and pray ins And march ins and die ins, We carried it on. On cold Missouri midnights Pitting shotguns against lynch mobs On burning Brooklyn streets Pitting rocks against rifles, We carried it on. Against water hoses and bulldogs. Against nightsticks and bullets. Against tanks and tear gas. Needles and nooses. Bombs and birth control. We carried it on. In Selma and San Juan. Mozambique, Mississippi. In Brazil and in Boston, We carried it on. Through the lies and the sell-outs, The mistakes and the madness. Through pain and hunger and frustration, We carried it on. Carried on the tradition. Carried a strong tradition. Carried a proud tradition. Carried a Black tradition. Carry it on. Pa** it down to the children. Pa** it down. Carry it on. Carry it on now. Carry it on TO FREEDOM! Assata Shakur