wait till i get my money right. then you can't tell me nothin', right?

my dad told me once, and i will never forget it, though i have forgotten where he told me he'd heard it before:

"when they came to us, we had the land and they had the bible. they taught us to pray with our eyes closed. when we opened our eyes, they had the land and we had the bible."

dropouts who can't afford it
anymore than they can machines to help 'em do the work
home for anthem broadcast, out again when rooster crows
back pains before reunion, beat up worse than booster gold
muscles popped from pulling ends together
put in work, they tell us, and our tired dogs'll walk through heaven
the meekest ones too shamed to claim inheritance
dead from overtoiling, of pneumonia. what year is this?
back home they struggle, look up - "in god we trust"
scraping notes of legal tender love and care like that's what's up
stacks and mortar cardhouse, but the deck's stacked
higher interest mortgages if you're brown or black
unemployment seventeen percent and climbing
but overall is dropping it's seven percent headlines
better not get sick if your boss don't like you
otherwise atop those doctor bills you join that population spike
"mmm, but wait 'till i get my money right
mortgage, suits and brand new shoes from dudes who called me 'monkey'
that'll show 'em." homie offered me a job, started
"so, what can you do?" out to mechanize my art
best intention, but i had to take a pass
long as i live i won't call any man or woman boss or master
not even self. i only have the one life
why waste it on a daily grind, tryin' to get mine?
i'm of a mind to live right now as i'd like to later
whatever tomorrow comes is a refinement of what i practice today.

not making ends, i'm taking means and making breakfast.