- I'mma 6'2, light skin, bald headed brother.
But I look like--
- I'm 6'12 and a half, 95 pounds soakin wet.
Don't you see my long, luxurious locks.
- [Both] And somehow, we all fit the description.
Sketchy dispatch draws conclusions.
Six foot black, heavy set male with tattoos and sunglasses.
Translation, black male, insert false description here.
It's shocking how a little static
can bring enlightenment to a situation.
With stereotypes goin in one ear,
banging the drum on the other.
Damn I must've sounded familiar.
Suspect, dark as witness room.
Shirt, white as the officer
that would've hand cuffed my shadow.
But it was already on the ground.
Silent and compliant.
My walk, must've been running too close to his privilege.
Must've jogged his memory.
Don't all blacks look like guilty
when approached behind, one-way mirrors?
Or interrogation rooms?
- [Audience Member] Come on.
- Downtown isn't a destination for discussion.
Can't convince a cop
that you didn't do the crime they committed.
And if they're doing the convicting,
if your complexion closes the case.
When the cage is closed, we all look alike.
Somehow, we all fit the description.
Skin, saturated in sin.
We all got locks, all dreaded together.
All six feet tall, but still got shrinkage.
My stride say run, my legs they say escape.
My skin say black, they say guilty.
Say not worthy of being proven innocent.
To hide the guilt, you must be black I mean blue.
The most common characteristic in interrogation rooms.
But in a world where six is nine,
Will gloves still judge a wrist by its color?
Would you mirror our movements?
Would blue lives matter?
Would you feel silenced if we said,
"All lives matter"?
If one way mirrors were turned, would you still see guilty?
Still talk to the man in it?
Would you dare look or be afraid to approach?
Afraid to see that thin line between cop and convict?
If you stood in the light we'd say,
"They all look alike".
All they eyes say killer, hands say murderer.
All look angry, yet so damn trigger happy.
Fingerprints left at the scene, begging to be positive ID.
They DNA is tricky, always spiraling out of cuffs.
Twisting and bending the system.
Don't lift your voice.
Raising your hands won't save you.
Never stand up for yourself.
No matter your size,
they'll still see ya as six feet, under.