The Last Poets
On The Subway
On the subway
(On the subway)
I dug a man digging on me
But the dude was hung up in a mass of confusion
As to who I was
He thought he was trying to see
But you see, but you see
Me knowing me
Black, proud, determined to be free
Could plainly see my enemy
(I seen that n***a somewhere before)
Yes, yes, yes, I know him
I once slaved for him, body and soul
And made him a pile of black gold
Off the sweat of my labor he stole
(Next stop, next stop, next stop, next stop)
But his game, his game is old
(Next stop, next stop)
We broke in the mental hole
(Next stop, next stop)
Things must change
(Next stop, next stop)
There's no limit to our range
(Next stop, next stop)
He can never understand
(Next stop, next stop)
The new black man
(Next stop, next stop)
Let alone, see us every day
(Next stop, next stop)
Riding the subway
(Next stop, next stop, next stop, next stop)
Eighth Avenue, Seventh Avenue, Sixth Avenue
I-N-D, B-M-T, I-R-T
He still hasn't dug me
(Next stop, next stop, next stop, next stop)
He stares endlessly
(Next stop, next stop, next stop)
Blinking
(Blink)
Blink, blink
(Blink, blink)
Blink, blink
Blink, blink, blink, blink
Blink, blink, blink, blink
He's on the brink
About to sink
I ask you, shall I save him?
Can he be saved?
(No! No, no!)
Next stop, 125th Street