40 Acres in a prison

 By  Crystal Cartier

(CHORUS)

40 Acres in A Prison

Black Folk Reservations

Started out as slavery

Ended up as reparations

No 40 acres & no mule

But lots of regulations & lots of rules

A concrete box ruled by hearts of stone

No peace... no Freedom...No home to call my own

40 acres in a prison

I’ve got to make the most of what I have

Dixie is in the White House

Bizness as usual

Black folks for Sale

(SPOKEN)

Native Americans shouldn’t be homeless

That’s why White Man gave them reservations

40 acres in a prison

Depression engineered for generations

Let alcohol console you

While welfare cons control you

People of Color fight over  cheesy handouts or

manipulating “hands up” for a price

Play the Euro Melting Pot Game

Sell out or lose your hopes & dreams of ever having the Good  Life

“Be a general in Satan’s Army

Go after what you want at any cost

Don’t worry ‘bout folks you may be hurting

They ‘re simply losers... Already lost.”

The Black Man is an endangered species

Scorned like waste & feces

Limitations like locks & shackles

Strings attached like ropes & chains

Offensive players viciously tackle

You’ve got to learn how to play The Game

If born with money you must stick to your own

If poor you must sell out or stand all alone

surrounded by handlers clever & charming

Designed to control without alarming

whether from behind bars of steel or bars of music

professional sports... civil & corporate slaves

or drug addicts stressing beyond reason

we’re self destructing into early graves

 REPEAT VOCALS/CHORUS

*   *   *   *   *

posted 30 june 2007