"Who Am I?"

 Who Are You?

It’s scary hours, up late night, watching The Black Panther

Can’t keep focus, can’t enjoy the movie ‘cuz of 1 question I got to answer

If I moved my feet like how I speak with words, I’d make one hell of a dancer

But ain’t enough charm or charisma in the world that can save me from giving this answer

I’m a poli sci major by nature, and I picked up many things

Read about commanders, read about chancellors, read un poco about New Hampshire

But ain’t enough trivia, Snapple, or Google facts that can save me from giving this answer

Ever since September 15th, I couldn’t get it out of my head

That night I sat deep in the back, writing down everything they ever said

Identity Mic Night, only thing on my mind when I went to bed

Every dinner, I’m piecing together what I want to say as I’m being fed

But still watching this movie, Erik Stevens catching body after body, adding numbers to the dead

But I gotta put that story on mute ‘cuz I got a poem to write instead

Who are you? Who are you?

This question doesn’t come out the blue

I’m a proud Dominican, I’m a proud Haitian, I’m a proud African-American

But the self-critic in me says that that’s brand new

The self-critic says, before I was in college, I wasn’t waving Hispaniola’s red, white, and blue

I may have I’ve rubbed shoulders with CSA, DSA, JAMSA, BSU, HLSU

But before I was Senor Blanco at Dunbar, I ain’t know a lick of Spanish

The fact that I even claim this might be a little outlandish

Don’t know nothing about bachata, don’t know nothing about merengue

I mean I can say ya tu sabes and I can say Sak pase

But I don’t even have the que lo que part or n’ap boule

Don’t know anything about kompa, but yet that is what I display

My critic tells me, when it comes to these groups, and it comes to these identities, I haven’t paid those debts

And sometimes he tells me it’s like I’m claiming a gang knowing full well I don’t even rep the set

Sometimes, when I walk back to DeGraff, I think, “Maybe he’s right”

But I got too many voices in my head and they all like to fight

Who am I? Who am I?

I am Zachariah Trevon White a.k.a “Big Daddy Drip”

The Emperor from not Fort Myers (proper), I’m from FORT MYERS

Lee County, 239, Southwest, Lil’ Pakistan, I’m really from that

But until I got this glow around, I ain’t get that love back

Everything the critic said was very, very true

But when your connects to the cultures either leave or exclude you, what else is there left to do?

I only grew up with access to one of these three families, and if they give me the short hand off of the perception that I didn’t pay

When I stroll up to these other two, what am I supposed to expect them to say?

Watching that spaceship leave that boy in California

I felt that, too, ‘cuz I was left before they even made Wakanda

I try so hard to be T’Challa

But I was Killmonger before Killmonger

Except I laughed it off like I wasn’t even bothered

Cuz I done walked through the streets and valleys unknown

I took a look at my life and I’m all alone

But I been chilling and dealing for so long that

Even The Devil that I’m way too strong

But I ain’t not never claim God’s gift to me

Even with the struggles, they turned their backs on me

But I’m not finna play the victim, I’m not ‘bout to go against them

About show the strength that resides within him

‘Cuz when you’re lacking something, no time to cry and moan

Ironically I am a island and I ain’t left my zone

Rules and my culture, I made some of my own

Kept from the table, that’s why I sit on the throne

And I’mma keep getting fly

I’mma keep getting fresh

People know like I know, even on my worst day, I do that the best

I know the truth, me and my ancestors are connected

They are me and I am them

I lived through them in the past, and they live through me in the present

And every moment, every thought, every action is a present

With that being said, I’mma cop every new rollie from everytime we was in chains

I’mma cop all the cuban links for everytime we’ve been hanged

I’mma keep wearing some bomb kicks, wearing some bomb sh*t for everytime we had to flee to make a better life and ain’t never been back to the homeland since

I’mma keep these nice threads on my back ‘cuz that’s where the targets at

And I’ll always keep my crown on my head ‘cuz that’s where the real change started at