It is early mornings and peanut butter. It’s slipping on ice and sweating to death. It’s feeling like you can’t breathe and wishing your legs would fall off. It’s sticking it out on the treadmill and pushing through bad runs. There is no off-season, no one to cheer you on at 5:00 a.m, and no cure for your hunger. When it comes down to it, running is whatever you want it to be, whatever you need to be, and whatever you have in you.
12-year-old girl:I don't want kids when I grow up.
Society:You'll change your mind when you get older. You're only 12. You're too young to know what you want.
16-year-old girl:I'm pregnant.
Society:How could you be so stupid? Do you know anything about safe sex? You should be ashamed.
20-year-old woman:I'm a single mother with an infant son.
Society:You should've gone to college first. You need a stable career before you can support a child.
33-year-old woman:I'm married and my spouse and I both have stable careers. I have two young daughters now.
Society:You're not staying home? Who's going to take care of them? You're just going to put them in day care while you work? That's selfish of you. You can't expect to raise decent kids with a full-time job.
45-year-old woman:I just had my first child.
Society:Why would you have a child when you're that old? Do you realize the health risks of being pregnant at your age? When your kid is a teenager you'll be a senior citizen. That's inconsiderate of you.
60-year-old woman:I haven't had any children.
Society:Your life must be so unfulfilling. Is there something wrong with you? Why didn't you want kids? How strange.
I asked a question like this
“Are we a lost generation of our people?
Add us to equations but they’ll never make us equal.
She who writes the movie owns the script and the sequel.
So why ain’t the stealing of my rights made illegal?
They keep us underground working hard for the greedy,
But when it’s time pay they turn around and call us needy.
My crown too heavy like the Queen Nefertiti
Gimme back my pyramid, I’m trying to free Kansas City.
Mixing masterminds like your name Bernie Grundman.
Well I’m gonna keep leading like a young Harriet Tubman
You can take my wings but I’m still goin’ fly
And even when you edit me the booty don’t lie
Yeah, keep singing and I’mma keep writing songs
I’m tired of Marvin asking me, “What’s Going On?
March to the streets ‘cuz I’m willing and I’m able
Categorize me, I defy every label
And while you’re selling dope, we’re gonna keep selling hope
We rising up now, you gotta deal you gotta cope
Will you be electric sheep?
Electric ladies, will you sleep?
Or will you preach?