I need a dollar, it makes me wanna holler
Can’t get in the club cause they say I need a collar
Can’t get in the country club, they say I rock a blue one
Say I need a white collar, my paps was in the union
Son of a working man, I don’t have no benefits
Screaming fuck the system and everything it represents
I punch the clock so much I wanna punch the clock
Like lyrically beat the screen make the hands of time stop
The field is made of concrete, we still share cropping
The spirituals I sing are over top of beat boxing
I was beat and boxed, in a cell left to rot
They say we’re free, but I’m nervous on my block
I don’t have a weapon and I haven’t done a crime
But I still got this fear I’m at risk at doing time
Still get up tight when the cops circle around
Protect and serve still got a funny sound
Troy Davis’ blood still stains the ground
This is the criming of the urban environment
Trying to make it through the day, haven’t thought about retirement
A lot of good people worked themselves into they grave
In my American dream, I’m an American slave

This nation was built so that we never have power
They got bullets for anyone that don’t respect the dollar
This nation was built so that we never have power
Power, power, power, power.