Take away hope and the soul is broken. Welcome to the ghetto, the land of the hopeless. The home of the slaves. Slaves to products made by kids in foreign lands. Slaves to big cars on big rims. Slaves to the golden M, serving lettuce, tomatoes, patty on a bun. With fries soaked in death. MMMMmmmm good all served with a smile. Slaves to PS 3s, High Def TVs and B.E.T. The TVs are crystal clear unlike their lives, hazy and ruled by fear. "Oh, boy we moving on up. Finally, getting a piece of the pie." Or, should I say scraps from the dog’s bowl. If my grandmother's, grandmother saw you she'd tell you you are no better than her. She knows a slave when she sees one. "You sho’ do look like a slave to me. Different master, different work, same sorrow, same hopelessness. "I thought by now we would have us some FREE. Yeah you get paid to work, yeah you have nice stuff but you oh so cold. You forgot where you came from; you forgot your natural tongue. Amazing you're a slave that is free to be free but your mind is bound in chains. Set yourself free from all forms of mental slavery."