Seems as though the Whites have found a way to shut us down, with little consequence; they get the guns and buck us down, let's call it what it is; this new age lynching is a trip, the bullets are like nooses killing n1ggers when it's spit.
But let's not make Caucasians out there shoulder all the blame, we're killing off each other with them boulders to our brain, the nation may be outraged when a psycho knocks us off, there're brothers killing brothers; then the stance is cotton soft.
The ghettos and the hoods are full of murder; who can win? I've never seen a straight haired dude with red translucent skin, jump out an Expedition pullin' triggers on the block, my brothers are the ones who're leavin' n1ggas slumped and dropped.
It's all gon come to head just like a pimple on your skin, there's just too much to take when there's a dimple on your sin, it'll get to where we're right up on the cusp to turn it 'round, then something's gonna happen, and the folks'll burn it down.
My people we're still sleeping while the world has woken up, the thing is NOT to read and that's why we don't know enough, this country's tryna kill us off but even more than that, we'll never get no justice long as we are poor and Black.
You got a couple dollars and you may can buy you some, but lawyers don't take Fam'lies First so we can't buy us none, the whole world calls us n1gger while we simply smile and dance, all over social media; we stand no kind'a chance.
They'll take us when they want to and we'll be too high to care, we'll go down like an elevator; maybe try the stairs, there're levels we won't reach 'cause we're fatigued from climbing flights, just keep on killin' off each other deep inside the night.
We'll do the favor for them and eradicate ourselves, the KKK would love it; m@sturb@tin' to our yells, by then it'll be too late; the smiles of dancers turn to frowns, vibrate from tremors long ago; and then we'll burn it down.
©2015 The Cunning Linguist