To the man that on me at the Starbucks down on Main, I hope you understand When I put on that t-shirt, the only thing I meant to say is I'm a fan The red flag on my chest somehow is like the in the corner of the south And I walked him right in the room Just a proud rebel son an 'ol can of worms Lookin' like I got a lot to learn but my point of view
I'm just a white man to you from the southland to understand what it's like not to be I'm proud of where I'm from but not everything done And it like you and me can re-write history Our generation didn't start this We're still pickin' up the pieces, on eggshells, fightin' over yesterday And caught southern pride and southern blame
They called it Reconstruction, fixed the buildings, dried tears We're still through the rubble after a hundred-fifty years I try to put myself in your shoes and that's a good to begin But it like I can walk a mile in someone else's skin
'Cause I'm a man livin' in the southland Just like you I'm than what you see I'm proud of where I'm from but not everything we've And it ain't like you and me can re-write Our generation didn't this nation And we're still for the mistakes That a bunch of folks made before we came And between southern pride and southern blame
Mr. White Man, I wish you understood What the is really like when you're livin' in the hood Just because my pants are saggin' doesn't I'm up to no good You should try to get to know me, I wish you would Now my chains are gold but I'm still I wasn't when Sherman's March turned the south into firewood I you to get paid but be a slave I never could Feel like a new fangled Django, dodgin' invisible hoods So when I see that white hat, I'm thinkin' it's not all good I guess we're both guilty of judgin' the not the book I'd love to buy you a beer, and clear the air But I see that red flag and I think you I wasn't here
I'm a white man (If you judge my do-rag) to you from the southland (I judge your red flag) Tryin' to understand what it's not to be
I'm of where I'm from (If you judge my gold chains) But not everything done (I'll forget the chains) It like you and me can re-write history (Can't history baby)
Oh, (The between the Mason-Dixon needs some fixin') I hope you understand this is all about (Quite frankly I'm a black Yankee but I've thinkin' about this lately) I'm a son of the new (The is the past, you feel me) And I just want to things right (Let be bygones) all that's left is southern pride (RIP Robert E. Lee but I've gotta Abraham Lincoln for freeing me, know what I mean) It's real, it's It's