Now rappin strong common sense;

I ain’t waitin for Providence.

For real, I’m gonna make it in the world.

I jerk my limbs, and rap out: Unc’ Tom’s not true.

Why flake and keep pride furled-? —

As much my world as theirs to chew.

Shoot, the earth turns for all—

yeah, even for us blacks too —

but I ain’t gonna brawl,

and later find I gotta crawl.