[Intro]
...Color barrier
And, uh, in 1958, you know
We would’ve hoped that
We would’ve opened more doors
But we didn’t

[Chorus: Shamon Cassette]
It ain't easy being Black and dope
Some white people hate the most
Not saying that they all do
Screaming love, and the rest be screaming out
“Booo!”
It ain't easy being Black and dope
Some white people hate the most
Not saying that they all do
Screaming love, and the rest be screaming out
“Booo!”

[Verse 1: Shamon Cassette]
Could you еver imagine
What we go through?
For a ritual...
Sacrificе a child life to get nice
I’m good in the head
But a player, so I got a price
The game is good
A lefty, but I play the right
Tom ain’t my uncle
Won't catch me playing on the right
Skate 8's on an opp
Eat shaved ice
ACAB with no device
It's my.....
United States of Whatever, huh?
How thin is the ice, you can't measure
My blade severs
Power play
Only mission is to win
Step in the cube for a second
And wear my skin
Wear my skin
[Pre-Chorus: Shamon Cassette & Samples]
I know where you at
I know where I’m at
Wanna know how I know where I’m at?
How you know where you at?
‘Cause I know where I’m—damn…
...Just one epithet from a poison dart
Racial slurs flung at Val James
When he plays hockey in Salem, Virginia...

“Wayne Simmons was on the ice
For a shootout in London
When a fan threw a banana peel on the ice”

“I think that’s a racism problem
It is something that the sport has not combatted”

[Chorus: Shamon Cassette]
It ain't easy being Black and dope
Some white people hate the most
Not saying that they all do
Screaming love, and the rest be screaming out
“Booo!”
It ain't easy being Black and dope
Some white people hate the most
Not saying that they all do
Screaming love, and the rest be screaming out
“Booo!”
[Verse 2 : Taszlin Muerte]
Judgement night you with the hockey stick
And ask you why the prophet’s late
Sub-Zero slide, then glide across the lava lake
I'm trying to play the game
They say, "No Blacks and no others"
Guess I’ll use this goalie mask
To blast like four brothers
Pockets empty, but the leather’s butter
They mutter words they should never utter
Behind locked doors and closed shutters
And block tours and sip in sutter homes
With secret handshakes sealed in blood and bones
And we compete against these racist hearts
Then they hockey check you against the glass
Harder than a racist cop
All because my face is dark, and my skates are sharp
You can't escape the thoughts of hate
Made to tear the place apart

[Verse 3: P2thegoldmask]
Remember being ridiculed
By a miniscule fool
Who didn’t have a clue
To the spectrum of what I could do
But I knew my worth
So I put in work
It’s pain in my bars
But it’s love in my verse
Type my name for the stars
But to stay down on earth
But I hang with the stars
And the Earth is my turf
Underground staple permanent
Underneath the firmament
Section 8 suburban shit
Blended in the crevices
Peep the mathematics
See the day for hidden messages
Analyze the data, choose a route
This one will never miss
Made it off the block
Marbach, but I’m still reppin it
Still exit 7 on that 7-7-7 shit
Still be painting pictures
Ghost scriptures in my narratives
Still do avant-garde
For criticism or comparisons
Smoke a St. Ides blunt
For my n***as who ain’t here with us
Shamon and P2
These other suckers ain’t rare as us
[Outro]
You know?
You know?
Woord, aha
Woord
Get down inside, please
I’m a black...learner...I don’t know…

Shamon Cassette and Jaz Infinite
Throwing off the pads

Blades of Steel!