You will not pour ice on my mic
Just because my lesson burns
You’re not allowed to shame me
‘cause your mind's too closed to learn
I refuse to change my words around
Or remove a single phrase
‘cause my message is a mirror
That reflects your naked face
Race, religion, vices, or violence
If it colors our existence
Then my voice shall not be silent
Still, you challenge my words
And you work to smear and smother
But what salts your open wounds
May clean and dress another’s
You will not censor my pen
In fact, my ink shall flow bolder
It shall flow for the revolutionaries
Who carry me upon their shoulders
It shall flow for the hurting heart
Whose only kind words are my own
Or he who wrongly judged a stranger
Whose struggles he had not known
It shall flow for the broken woman
Who has somehow forgotten her worth
Or the man beaten by struggle
Who wants to erase himself from the earth
And it shall flow for me
On those lonely nights at home
When my love is far away
And our bed’s unfilled and cold
It shall flow until my days are done
Perhaps much to your chagrin
But your grievances will not dry my ink
You will not censor my pen
Just because my lesson burns
You’re not allowed to shame me
‘cause your mind's too closed to learn
I refuse to change my words around
Or remove a single phrase
‘cause my message is a mirror
That reflects your naked face
Race, religion, vices, or violence
If it colors our existence
Then my voice shall not be silent
Still, you challenge my words
And you work to smear and smother
But what salts your open wounds
May clean and dress another’s
You will not censor my pen
In fact, my ink shall flow bolder
It shall flow for the revolutionaries
Who carry me upon their shoulders
It shall flow for the hurting heart
Whose only kind words are my own
Or he who wrongly judged a stranger
Whose struggles he had not known
It shall flow for the broken woman
Who has somehow forgotten her worth
Or the man beaten by struggle
Who wants to erase himself from the earth
And it shall flow for me
On those lonely nights at home
When my love is far away
And our bed’s unfilled and cold
It shall flow until my days are done
Perhaps much to your chagrin
But your grievances will not dry my ink
You will not censor my pen
