Juice Magazin - New Man Theme lyrics

Now this is my escape from many things on many levels I couldn't settle the pedal these are words of a rebel Come and dance with the devil in the bloody meadow The ground is metal from the armor of a soldier's medal I used to revel in the ways that were before me Go to school get a job c'mon you know the usual story I was 18 and just about to hit the college scene On to Colgate, considered it prestigious and pristine What I mean I was told that in life there's a goal And it's gold, those without it die unhappy and cold Another unwritten code, a savage story that's told By the media, the medium by which were controlled It doesn't benefit the spirit or the soul, so when I enrolled I went bold Here's the list of things I wanted to know: MYSELF End of list, get the gist? Professors are pissed, tally up the cla**es I missed But I did read books, opened up my mind, took a look within Noticed hip hop was oozing through my skin Cut my demo at the end of '94 After hustling to get loot, troopin' far and sleepin' on floors Went to college as an athlete, was feedin' a fade And came home as a dread who used his pen as a blade Did I make the right decision; well my folks don't think so I let them down I'm in my room I'm locking my door [Hook] (New day) I'm black, strong, intelligent man you ain't steering me wrong (New day) I got heart, sk**; follow my collar drop knowledge and build (New day) They can't hold me back, they can't hold me back My once beloved room became hell; burning flesh is the smell The temperature rose, my self esteem fell In the morning I would rise to get some cereal Then return to my torture quarters for my slaughter and burial Paralyzed by the tears from my fathers eyes Couldn't even raise my head to know the somber skies Mom and I would sit and chat about me getting "back on track" She'd leave, then I'd crawl into my "lack of confidence" trap What a vicious format The system sets parameters for livin' By using tunnel vision funneled to the money system Ads are dads, sitcoms are moms Dollars are our legs and arms, and our heart is a bomb Detonate if you hesitate to slave or matriculate You'd better participate, survival's your interest rate Financin' is Manson, hopes are held for ransom Power's dancin' and sorrows the anthem Well, let's return to this point in time where I'm Standing next to my ex job's "Help wanted" sign, you'll find My mind overflowin' with adrenaline and energy I infuriated my enemy with my integrity Essentially, if you want to work there, don't mention me They'll cut in half your pay and punch your face as a penalty I'm self empowered, hit the showers, I'm on the road I'm goin' to the club, I'm out my crib, I'm lockin' my door [Hook]