It's a Trip - The Last Poets

How I wish I could stay, far away, far away

Away from the milling masses

Filth, vermin and gases

Muggings, thuggings, near naked bodies as they go marching past

Shamming at modesty in miniskirt mask

And it’s a trip

Yes, it’s a trip

From the screaming and cussin'

From the gambling and hustlin'

From the nodding and the fussin'

From the confusion of integration and segregation

Amidst the cries of Let’s build a nation!

Separation, y’all, separation t y’all

Separation, separation

It’s a trip

Yes, I trip to escape the environmental rape

The industrial waste in the rivers and lakes

The mad, mad race for the vastness of space

The clamour and fuss to quicken the pace

The hypocrites' call of justice for all

Though this cannot be for people like me

There’s no place for the poor y’all, in this society

So I trip and I flee from the things that I see

Yes I trip and I flee from this brand of liberty

Yes I trip and I flee, so perhaps for a moment

I might be free, free, free

I might be free, free, free

And it’s a trip

Yes, it’s a trip

Yes, I split with my mind, through the passage of time

Back when men were still men, and the sisters were fine

And a man had a friend, and a man had Allah

And a man had some land, and a faith to defend

Back in time before men were deceived by the Jinn

Back in time before men were deceived by the Jinn

But, alas, I come back to the real, to the fact

Being poor, being black, being under attack

Being under attack for just being black

Being under attack for just being black

Being under attack for just being black

Being under attack and that is a fact

And it’s a trip

It’s a trip

Yes, it’s time we all took a real hard look

At the lifestyles we have and the ones we forsook

And our past and our present, at the future we crave

And at the things we encounter between the womb and the grave

And what we must do, and what must be saved

And how we must struggle, and how things will be

When truth is revealed, y’all, and falsehood has died

And we can be free and we want to be

And it’s a trip

And It’s a trip

How I wish I could stay, far away, far away

From the witches and vampires that stalk me each day

Far away from the hunter that makes me the prey

Far away from the snare that they lay on the way

For the soul is the prize in the game that they play

For the soul is the prize in the game that they play!