1 White hoods crawl from southern graves, Selling daylight, trading names, Perfumed lies and butcher smiles, Dressed up holy, dressed up tame. I spoke in sparks and skeptic fire, Faith mixed thin with fear and doubt, Slept behind the enemy lines Till the General called me out. Pre-Chorus He said, “Truth don’t travel with a mask.” I said, “Lord, it’s stitched to my skin.” He said, “Son, that’s the first thing dead If you’re ever gonna live.” Chorus White hood. Black hood. Different cloth, same blood. Same old lie with a brand-new tongue, Same old war never done. White hood. Black hood. Tell me who you’re praying to. If truth’s the thing you’re hiding from, That hood’s still owning you. Verse 2 Six-o’clock poets mop the floor, Call the rope “misunderstood,” Weigh the knife, rename the cut, Say the fire was for the good. A King came walking painted bright, Peace stitched sharp upon His sleeve, He split the dark with living words Till the deaf began to believe. Chorus White hood. Black hood. Different book, same flood. Same old hate in holy dress, Same old fear in righteousness. White hood. Black hood. Truth don’t kneel to either one. It just stands where the blood hit dirt Long after the speeches done. Verse 3 A shadow with a slinky spine Shot the dream from behind, Left hope bleeding in the dust While history closed its eyes. Now mongrel dogs still bark in light, Fleas fat on made-up grace, They set their traps in church-house pews And call the darkness “balance.” Bridge Black hoods rise from ancient sand, Teeth tick like holy clocks, They feed on sons, they spit out bones, Build their thrones from poor men’s flocks. Abraham’s house still split in two, Cain keeps perfect score, Same old war in brand-new shoes Knocking at our off-springs door. Final Chorus White hood. Black hood. Truth don’t care what you claim. It don’t march, it don’t chant, It don’t play your game. White hood. Black hood. You can polish it, you can pray, But truth don’t wear a hood at all— It just waits in the way. Outro Truth don’t wear a hood. Truth don’t need a crowd. Truth just stands where the blood hit dirt And it don’t cry out loud.
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