I was born with not a silver spoon,
but a golden spear in my hand.
I was taught to be strong,
and not to fear the white man.
Stolen from my homeland where the streets were paved with gold,
and bought to this country where I was stripped of my soul.
Brought here on a slave ship shackled and bound in chains.
Robbed of my heritage, and given my masters sir name.
I have survived the long and restless journey of the slave ship.
I have endured the painful lashes of the masters whip.
I had babies in the cotton fields,
and was back in the big house in time,
to cook my master`s meals.
I prayed, while master had his way with me
in the slave quarters.
I cried as I watched him sell my sons and daughters.
You wonder who am I, that I can endure, these things?
I am the mother of a warrior
and the daughter of a King.
I am the Black Queen.
