Monday, January 18, 2010
We be american keloids
battle scarred and beautiful
ghetto butterflies earn their stripes
walked through the valley of colossal contempt
shadow boxing in puddles of tears
dodging bullets seen and unseen
survivor ain't no TV show
shorties be wildin' tho
survivin' sins of the father...momma too
shit is thick yo
wayward warriors journeying through war-torn wombs
while american landmines awaits his...her...our arrival
with 41 bullet gun salutes and
precinct plunger butt parties...
how can we heal when we're still under attack?
guilty for being gift wrapped Latino and Black
attack against unnatural habitats
now that's how we supposed to do
but sometimes the science of the cage, flip-triggers misdirected rage
causing us to hurt the closest ones
the easiest ones
the innocent ones...
our sons and daughters
bury them in real neglect and false images
I'm running out of flowers
better catch the seeds
save the seeds
plant the seeds
in Black earth toiled tobacco roads
cotton sugar cane...
blessed blood industry
the next/ the new/ the now
war... war... war...
the trees remember
who shot us/ hung us/ tuskegee experimented us/chemical war-fared us
4 little girls praying in alabama !
terrorism and 911 is so layered, this axis of evil thing
gypsy thugs, prison prophets and corner store bodega intelligence say
this ain't nothing but a crumbling Barnimum Bailey side show experiment mommi
with roaches crack and television
ring masters pimpin' poverty/ hustlin' chaos/ placing bets on complacency
rewarding keepers of the status quo
current culture celebrates the killer and ho
the children are watching
they already know
that women is bitches
niggaz ain't shit
money is God!
this ain't normal y'all.
broken dreams cut the baby's feet and hands
in abandoned lots
our sons cock their glock
where are the heros?
strangers in our mothers bed
seeds grow and want and need
Love Love Love Love Love
but, she don't even love herself...LONG STORY
throwing her children to the wind
ACS state agencies catch the falling prey/ confusion everyday
shorty's face is slashed...scarred
we be american keloids
rising mountains of pain beneath the skin,
it is stretching my skin across ancient dynasty drums
i gotta keep the faith
gotta keep the faith
'cause even in the face of death
we still create
like soundtracks for the planet!!!
blues jazz rock
morphed into hip hop
walking talking miracles
wounded and gorgeous
and in your face