servitude
When I hear of a black man dragging down the road,
a long chain clenched tight, elbows scraped to the bone,
I cannot find it within myself to react.
Visions of these nightmares pierce the radio airwaves,
rants and raves fill our atmosphere,
there is a renewed fear here...and I feel nothing.
Desensitized am I as I am unsurprised by news such as this -
I have come to be numb to this
eyes veiled,
palms clenched,
blood drips on linoleum; they're holding him
Swastika burning past his eyes...
struggle...
he tried.
To shout about "the man" is not the steelo I preach.
Black boy holds a nine like it's his dick in his hand,
Puberty has made him proud of what's going on, finally a "man".
Jeering peers press him to "take that" so the nine he lift,
And fires, leaving another black boy dying on pavement.
Mista "massa" has a big pink birthmark above his eyebrow
And that's all she sees now as he tears her dress down,
Not allowed nor willing to look him in the eye,
He leave his foul, rancid smell on her breasts and on thighs.
Dirty palms of a devil sear and bruise mahogany skin...
She chokes on bitter bile as he explores her within...
Yet to shout about "the man" is not the steelo I preach.
"Who you been seeing in the evening?" brotha asks her, 40 in hand,
other hand slaps mahogany face, against the wall queen lands
"I been at work like I told you" is all she gets out cause he's kicking her, hard
as hell
in the womb where black fetus dwells.
When she thinks for herself, she's a troublesome whore,
Subsequently he penetrates her earth 'til its sore,
Uninvited
"keeping the bitch in her place" make him feel the power he's been slighted.
They're laughing at us cause we're sweeping their floor...
Why should they raise their palms when black fist does more-?
By destroying brotha first, Mephistopheles breeds and lives,
we pass the need the destroy to our kid's and they kids
and no work has to be done to keep sista kneeling on ground
when her own brotha's complete the task pound for pound.
Catastrophe speeding, increasing velocity,
spins out of control, stop, drop, and roll, mark what you see.
To shout about "the man" is not the steelo I preach,
because for genocide...we reach...we reach...
in servitude.