"People understand very little the power of words...
I remember one incident in my youth, during my late teens/early twenties, when I was hanging out with some friends of mine (at the time) from high school, in which I was supposed to be forming a musical group with (they were the singers of the group, and I was to be the emcee). We were having a conversation one time about group matters when one of my friends/groupmates replied in a jovial fashion, "I'm a Spic, and proud of it." His response caused me to raise a surprised eyebrow at him, considering that I was the angry militant of the group. In response, he dared me to ask him why he would refer to himself in such a manner. After a few seconds of contemplation, I bit.
"Okay...why are you proud to be a Spic?"
"...Because we're Spanish People In Control! Get it?"
I have to admit that at the time I laughed at the response, thinking that it was on the clever side; taking a word of negative connotation, and turning it into a positive. As the emcee of the group (and secondary song writer), I had actually penned a few songs (two actually; the original song with rhyme verse, and rap remix) in response to this witty acronym, turning it into our political statement. Since I was the radical of the group, I had always tried to express my political beliefs through my art, using it as a tool to 'edu-tain' the masses. It's been many moons since I even thought about picking up the mic; it just wasn't in me to be an emcee. It's been even longer since I had a falling out with my ex-groupmates/former friends to do the music thing, and revolutionize the music industry and the masses. But...that particular memory has always stuck with me."
S.P.I.C. (Spanish People In Control)
Chorus:
S-P-I-C...Spanish People In Control
S-P-I-C...Spanish People In Control
S-P-I-C...Spanish People In Control
S-P-I-C...Spanish People In Control
Verse 1: (Knowledge As Supreme)
Well, it's the K-A-S' rise, and I'm coming as no surprise,
And as I'm kickin' my flava, it's my theory you must surmise...
Teachin' you all with my political flow,
S-P-I-C, Spanish People In Control...
On the culture tip, give me respect for the props I'm earnin',
(Why...?) Cause I'm the Phunkee Honduran...
I'm a darker skinned brother, with the mad Latin flava,
Representin' my peoples, and kickin' issues that can save ya...
Born wit a street heart, down to be book smart,
Hope to be a leader that you read in your history csparts...
Learn from my knowledge, all the sermons that you hear me speak,
Speakin' and preachin', reachin' and teachin' truths you know you can't defeat...
We gotta hype ourselves, fuck these political groupies,
Cause they're always dissin' us, even in these wack ass movies...
We get played by Caucasians, we get portrayed like we're heathens,
We're always getting disrespected, no one's there when we need them...
We get blamed for the welfare, get blamed for the drug flow,
They disrespect our language and our culture as a whole...
We ain't all dealers, and ain't all alcoholics,
Don't try to label me, so son, back up off it...
You lied to us in school and tried to program our minds,
But then when you want somethin', you start to act kind...?
(Fuck it!) Latter for y'all, cause I'm livin' Latincentric,
Don't try to keep me down, don't think you can suppress it...
Word to my Phunkness, to the next flow,
S-P-I-C...Spanish People In Control!
Chorus: 2X
Verse 2: [verse omitted]
Chorus: 2X
Verse 3: (Knowledge As Supreme)
Talkin', movin', flowin', showin' this packed jam,
The speakin' and preachin' mental emcee is who I am...
P-H-U-N-K-Double E,
And at the end put 'Honduran' and you know that's me...
I dress in baggies, and I talk wit the street slang,
You know I'm straight up street, but not down wit the gang thing...
Mental correctness, selfless, testless, I'm also restless,
Not some fake-ass fool thinkin' I'm the bestest...
Stick wit my peeps cause there is no petty jealousy,
Fake being friends, and then you wanna challenge me...?
I don't think so, look for help from your savior,
Cause when you challenge K-A-S, that shit ends in failure...
I know where I'm from, so I'm gonna stay true,
Representin' my peoples, I gotta do what I must do...
S-P-I-C ain't a song, it's a given,
It's a way to represent, it's the way that we livin'...
They try to keepyou down, leave you all by you lone,
But if we stay correct, we can bring up our own...
Combine the strengths of the entire Latin nation,
We can work for our own, handle any situation...
Word to god, heed my word, hear what I'm sayin',
We gotta go for ours, you know I ain't playin'...
Not by buck wildin', bullets flyin', people dyin',
Ya gotta use ya brain when ya fightin'...
They play these fucked up games all the time with us,
Just take up a position, and get ready to bust...
We gotta watch our own, cause nobody else will,
We gotta do what we must, even have to get ill...
Me and my peoples, we all live like this,
And soon we gonna arise, and it's something you won't miss...
That's how we livin', here just to let you know,
S-P-I-C...Spanish People In Control!
Chorus: 3X
The remix to Spanish People In Control will be posted soon as a follow-up to this post. For those interested in reading more of the article/essay "Word Power", or sampling other songs and poetry that I have written, please purchase a copy of Raise Your Brown Black Fist: The Political Shouts of an Angry Afro Latino, book one and two, at your local bookstore.
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