This one's for you Man. Let the record reflect.
From your Son with nothing but love & revolutionary respects.
With you, no commercials for Gatorade juice, no Armani suits, nor nothing of the likes.
For I sung the song to be Freedom Fighter like Fred, as opposed to wanting to be like Mike.
Although you weren't here, you were always there for me. I learned lessons from your legend on what a Man was supposed to be.
When they played with my mail & I couldn't get to no phone,
During those hunger strikes & cold nights, I was never alone.
Like you, they say when I talk that I talk real fast & that I move my hands.
We love the people, Oh! But will get up with that ass.
On the streets I always lent a ear when they spoke on Big Fred.
And in prison I paid attention to what the old timers said. When they spoke on you, I seen that gleam in their eye. With just the mention of your name, I seen the demoralized get high!
No narcotics needed, in fact high off the people, as you always said.
As a kid I came up looking forward to sideburns, fur hats & a nappy head.
From the colleges to the communities, from the parlors to the poolrooms.
From the REAL Rainbow coalition to a Principled! Gang truce.
In this struggle, you said you would pay the ultimate price. Anticipated prison & dedicated your life.
Whenever the state slandered your name, Mama told me the truth.
I know I pissed off plenty teachers when I wrote about you.
And that young Lady, your Grand baby, she sends you her love.
She's a descendant of a Die hard & a blessing from above.
Inquiring minds want to know; how does it feel to be sired by you?
Being loved by the people & sweated by the you know WHO.
And if I could do it all over again, I would choose to be your son
And by the way, that Lady you chose; Now Daddy that was the one.
Copyright: Fred Hampton Jr.