I Walk Into A Room, Also Known As An Institution.
Coloured Folk Are Few, It's Not The New Revolution.
As I Enter, Many Seem To Be Suprised.
They Don't Quite Say It, But I Can Tell By The Look In Their Eyes.
What Suprises Them, Is A Black Kid Sitting Amongst Many.
That Have Been Able To Get This Far By Paying A Pretty Penny.
Do I Belong With These People, We Aren't Even In The Same Social Class.
Their People Excel, And My People Are Just Happy To Pass.
But Yet I Continue My Walk In To The Room And Take My Seat.
As Other Non-Coloured Stroll In, Like A Marching Fleet.
For All They Know, I Could Be The Most Intellectually Able.
If That Were To Be Prooven, They'd Accuse Me Of Dealing Under The Table.
Cause No Way Can A Coloured Individual Surpass Any Other.
Little Do They Know, That I'm One Of The Smartest Brothers.
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