Lyrics It's a Trip - The Last Poets

It's a Trip

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!