Their wrinkled edges crumbled from the weight of their own images
African Kings and Queens with screaming bloodshot eyes
Starved of oxygen from thick hemp nooses around their necks
Suspended from southern trees with angry voices
Dangling like dead leaves in summer
Towns people gathering to watch them wither
Unaware of exactly what that NIGGER did
Queen Rosa knew that pain well
In the back of that bus riding through her village
Watching Brothers and Sisters getting washed away
By pressurized hate to keep the NIGGERS at bay
Staring into the bloody jaws of Massa’s dog
With fresh NIGGER flesh hanging from their fangs
Emmett Till lived that pain
Until August of 1955
When at 14 years of age his young life was snatched from him
They claimed he whistled at a White Woman named Carolyn
Then they gouged out his eyes
And shot him in his NIGGER head
Threw him in the Tallahatchie
With a cotton gin fan around his neck
The two men responsible were acquitted of the crime
In Money, Mississippi, it was just another NIGGER dead
The pain still lives today
In the cries from the bosoms of our elders
When they walk down the streets of their village
Hearing the venom used to castrate our nation
Embraced by our youth
Wishing they had a way to summon the strength
To snatch out your tongue by the root
Wha’s up my NIGGA’
I love dat NIGGA’
NIGGA’ please
Yo da’s my NIGGA’
Do you know how FOOLISH you look?
Foreigners laugh at your sorry state
The lost African tribe perpetuating self hate
Surely the Ancestors convulse in their graves
To see you march in your NIGGA’ parade
In your sagging pants and foul mouths
Like some modern day minstrel show
Living out your pseudo Frank White- American Gangster Dreams
“MY NIGGA”!!!!.............
Can you hear the Ancestor’s screams??
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