Black Children

[Intro: Fati]
Come here son...
I wrote you this letter...
I love you...
I pray this for your life

[Verse 1: Rukus]
Dear Black Son - I need you to listen:
Around 5 years old, white kids will say you're different
You are wonderfully made, your descendants wore crowns
But they may treat you worse because your skin is brown
When you're 10 or 11, at the corner store you’ll feel
The attendant watching you, cuz he thinks that you’ll steal
At 13, they will call you a nigga
Not because you are one, but they’re hoping that you’rе triggered
Peoplе pick on who they fear - that’s life
I hate violence - but if someone touches you, you fight
At 15, a girl will think you're attractive
Your friends will pressure you to become sexually active
No matter what happens, make sure you’re asking
Every girl is a queen, she controls every action
If she says no, go no further
Its called “consent” and that way you don’t hurt her
At 16, I will teach you to drive
How to talk to the police, to comply to survive
It won’t matter, but I’ll lie at that time
It won’t guarantee safety, guess it's just peace of mind
At 18, I will beg you to vote
Say your ancestors died, so you could have hope
But I will know both parties are alike
Neither cares about Blacks, after election night

[Chorus: Fati]
Might not make it home tonight
So I wrote you this letter, cuz I hope it gets better
I pray this for your life

Might not make it home tonight
So I wrote you this letter, cuz I hope it gets better
I pray this for your life

[Verse 2: Rukus]
Dear Black Daughter - I hope you listen to me:
From age 3 most will judge you by your beauty
And yes you're beautiful, I promise you that
But you're intelligent and kind - that shouldn’t come last
At age 5 you’ll be told you’re not white
And they'll describe your skin tone as only dark or light
At age 7, older men will start calling you “honey"
And you promise me you'll tell if someone touches you funny
At age 9, you'll say a stranger tried to pick you up
And that will be the last day that you ever ride the bus
At 11, you call crying, tell me that you bleeding
Just ruined your jeans, you’re embarrassed kids will see'em
Around 15, I’ll see your crush that you were texting
Your mom and I will talk about sex using protection
And boys in general - rules and behaviors
He should never lay a hand on you, when in anger
Never a touch, a hug, a kiss, or sex
Unless he’s asked you first, that’s what we call consent
When you’re 17, a white girl will call you “rude”
Or “aggressive” - she’ll say you had an attitude
Or say you’re intimidating, when you have been cordial
They’ll believe her, and they will scold you
But this will make you stronger beyond belief
By 18, you’ll lead a protest to reform the police

[Chorus: Fati]
Might not make it home tonight
So I wrote you this letter, cuz I hope it gets better
I pray this for your life

Might not make it home tonight
So I wrote you this letter, cuz I hope it gets better
I pray this for your life