Tension Relief - The Profile lyrics

Tension Relief: (Quietly: "RIP Trayvon") Im gone stay the way the Lord made me; off in his image 6'1" young black male, alot of melanin in my skin and They profile me a felon in the court of public opinion I'm already guilty, the only crime committed was living In a world full of sinning it seems you can walk to the store no more Every time I walk by slow little white b**hes locking they door Oh no, I ain't gone go for being your scapegoat no more Where's the crime in buying an iced tea and a bag of Skittles? Now who knows which way the wind gone blow? Ho, stop your faking Only seems to me that you are witnessing black men in public places If I wanted your purse I'd take it, go rambling through your sh** Mace you in the face with your own mace, b**h. Now take this! (Ugh!) The troops a**embling in the city. We going To start a riot, all my n***as coming with me Let's head to the suburbs and show them white boys what's the business It's a white man's world. You all run this sh**, we all just live here. Yeah But living in fear just ain't no living Can't even go grocery shopping without people keep following me like I'm stealing Every time the police stop me, how come they always got to frisk me Villian-ized by social stigma, penalized just cause of my pigment Da Grym Reefer: What's beef? Beef is four little girls getting burned up in a church Beef is Emmit Till getting hauled off in a hearse Beef isn't the way Pac & Big got did Beef is police being involved in it My skin is my sin While America pretends It's unheard of I could get k**ed and go to trial for my own murder Served a summons in a casket I'm being dramatic But the truth in what I speak is tragic Under these fascists Reverse Racism? No you've got it backwards These days and times, man The truth is a bad word Voted for change but were hustling back-wards The moneys in the way. Gotta get to it faster Why don't we own nothing? Too busy trying to rock a chain Skip the guns bu*ter over everything f** freedom! All that corny sh** ain't of importance n***as don't stand for justice They stand in line for Jordans Miss Joyce: (Chorus) A queen can't sit back and let them dethrone her king My brother can't you see you k** each other in vain Learned how to play the game But you switched up teams Don't you know there is no fear Like a black man with a dream Kumasi: In a free society -- I'm walking down the street, police got the nerve to ask me "Where you going? Where you coming fr--" ain't none of your damn business where I'm going! "It ain't none of your damn business where I came from! f** you talking about, "Where are you going?" " You go anywhere and ask anybody else "What they're doing here?" Do you stop and ask anybody else in this society, man, "Why do you exist?" you understand what I'm saying? But you got the nerve to ask me that, all day, every day? Now what do you think that does to me, psychologically? What does that tell me? What message am I being fed, everyday See, he don't understand that every day, he's feeding me a spoonful of hatred Every day -- that's my diet A spoonful of hatred You see? And it's just a question of when is this going to erupt? And upon whom is it going to erupt? Am I going to attack myself, am I going to attack my brotha, you understand? Am I going to attack my own image in the mirror, or am I going to eventually attack the cause of my anger and my frustration? But the point is, I'm a walking time bomb -- .. someday, somewhere, on somebody The question is -- upon whom? (Chorus)