We are chosen. We move through city streets, tag the walls with our speech, can they hear us speak? We are the art, the street, the culture don’t they know they cant steal the passion.
The hustle is embedded in our bones, our souls are driven by the soil from which we rose. Motivated by fists thrown in the air, we will be free. The sidewalks are our homes, the world our canvas and we paint pictures of life. We are the fighters, we will occupy what must fall. We are the verve, the light, unpack yourself and find the gold.
The rap is the generational soundtrack, we are warriors of words. The Artizens, creators of truth, hope and joy. We are the document of freedom. So ask yourself, what is your legacy?
Reach your hand out and speak.
By Kea Mooka