A Brief Word

by Jon Corbin

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released May 1, 2007

Executive Produced by The Runaway and Phinalee (Crux Productions)

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Jon Corbin Milton, Ontario

Jon Corbin aka The Runaway is a Canadian hip-hop & spoken word artist with lyrical themes of faith, love, family, social justice and personal growth. Over the past 10 years he has performed on stages big and small, providing a dynamic show that represents the basic tenets of hip-hop: peace, love, unity and having fun!

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Track Name: Gentlemen (prod. by Relic)
It’s my fantasy for you to see more than just rain gone
And gain a sense of clarity in torrents of rain storms
Sometimes I feel like my brain’s gone
Migrate the region of my body that loves to stay warm
That’s why bikinis is hot
They show the goods, I just show the interest I got
Regulation says stop what you’re doing
Only we can control what women’s bodies are doing
So get down on your knees, to measure that skirt
While men get free to do dirt, as a flirt
Worse, they talk, one by one step to the plate
A batting order of mental rape
It’s fake they love the best, small but and big chest
Ignore the contents of the breast
The source, the comfort, the wisdom, the love
All these things inside a woman’s hug
Yet all dug deep into the earth to be buried
Our tendency to do this is scary
So I wonder….

When gentlemen are only gentle when it suits their fancy
It only motivates a fantasy
I've been there too many times numerous minds to count
I wanna tip the balance
When gentlemen are only gentle when it suits their fancy
It only motivates a fantasy
I've been there too many times numerous minds in doubt
I wanna tip the balance

And I wonder how long it will be
Til someone checks the roots on our family tree
We live on translations that set out feet pacing
Blindly towards the dominant and obstinate
That famous scene, teachers thought Jesus was green
Ticked that he said he was clean
Stepped to, with a test to break on through the facade
With a stance so frequently ours
They charged a woman with adultery, stones in hand
But where on earth was the man?
Did the culture plan, pick and choose
The villains to win and lose
Then we give our leaders a hand?
Our standards only bring double trouble
While our boys wander round in the rubble
Bound to stumble over words with new meanings
Why did the word woman ever get switched?
And at each mention, my stomach suffers extreme tension
At the pretension of assumed control
Language is the key we hold
So please watch the body talk
Wounded spirits are hard to set free
(Let's set em free y'all)

Ladies, I apologize
Buying into lies, scoping size instead of what's behind the eyes
Sifting through outer beauty, scrutinizing souls for showing off some booty
Turning my head at blond hair, to stare, unaware of who gets my time or my care
For standards that demand observation, getting ahead without reciprocation
You must have different faces in many situations
I'm two faced with no explanation
I wanna tip the balance
Track Name: Wrong & Right (feat. Sundee Frazier)
They say the blacker the berry, the sweeter the juice
Take a close look at my fam, I need some more proof
The man who fathered me, the original Runaway
I stand today living in his name
Shadow of his skin, don't take it lightly
Can I fit with my kin? Cause they don't look like me
Ignorant years, a shorty growing up
Just shortly before losing touch with all my coloured peers
It used to mean nothing (race)
With ethno-divided line becoming signs of my times
(And what am I) Living in integration
(Confused) The best of both worlds I was chasing
Past erased when the black man slapped me in the face
Put me in my place, left a mere trace of clues to my identity
Found in pools of lies, call the CSI
Buckle down to the case of the man of mixed race
Hard to set it straight, only hesitate
Uncovered stories of pre and post glory
Penned by regret and rhetoric
And so the story goes,
Black man, white woman, mixed kids make up components of family
My rebellion is wrong? (Well maybe)
I never planned on being the token brown baby
Praise for mixed kids I could never shower
Cause cuteness, has no resemblance to power
When brown babies start to flower
Then can't end up Halle Berrys or Terence Howards
Compete with black girls, threats to white men
Suddenly nobody dotes on their skin
And everyone claims they can peg us by sight
Leaving us questioning wrong and right