Fourth Generation Slave

Growing up as a fourth generation great great grandson of a slave
Back when sea island cotton was not the sea island cotton of my time
The cotton gin and the sugar plantation mills have not been saved
Yet I turn around and see forth generation slaves.
Still not owning their own, holding on to a legacy so hard to stray from

I see the chain in the form of money so light it feels like it's not there
The illusion, one pound of feather, is the same as one pound of lead
What happen to, give me freedom or give me death?
The sugar mills crumble the cotton gins fade away.
Our ancestors buried away and rotten away silently leaving way.
Somewhere in New York there is a dog worth 12 MILLION DOLLARS.

Yet your dignity is priceless and when your rendered useless guess what
The value of your dignity will still remain the same, to be cashed in by who?
Fall in line take your place, that's what you went to school for
What were you before you went to school, and what are you after you left school?
This class of the elite will take over from the last class of the elite
SLAVES THAT IS