Now aint that something?
Our children's children already being born
Times have definitely changed
These children are accepted and adored because it's become the norm
But not to long ago I knew this little girl who was scorned
Treated like she's the devil's mistress,
walked the earth with a condemned unborn
Kicked out because her family believed she'll ruin shame their name
Forced to do it all by herself, because that Sperm Donor, That Pseudo-Father, that WHATEVER!!! was hooked on that corner planting his seed in another
Now where is the comfort? where is the support?
That becomes a cliche when she cries about her reality
That suppose to be till marriage
This little girl is forced into womanhood and has to shelve those ambitions of college
No time to listen to her so called family, who got nothing better to say
Only time to cry, weep, and take her frustrations out on new born at the end of the day
That time where she can only pray, hope that Mr. Right one day,
Can sweep her off her feet and take her away.
So I ask ? since then what Has Changed?
The spirit of that sixteen year old scorned with the new born is no longer
She takes times to listen to her 17 year old black sista.
Who boasts about the 2nd child due in the middle of October.
Young sista raps and spits about the new born with no bother.
Is not the start of a new life, an extension of the family tree?
I'm catholic so that's why I'm keeping it; besides my moms gonna take care of me
So the scorned steps and ask why'd she disrespect her
Why this little black girl disregard the torments and pains of being a single mother
She never even paid attention, she never paid mind
To the scorned sista life's book, not even a #%$ing Chapter.
So she pleads only in vain, because life's lesson taught
Came from trial and error, little girl have no idea how much the scorn fought.
In the end, the once scorned sista can only hope and pray
That other young black teenage sistas
Think twice about how fun it'll be to be a baby mama.

Nigger

Nigger

Nigger

Nigger!!!

I'm sorry, but I had to go to that means of communication
Just for a moment to divert your attention,
we needed to revisit the plantation.
Angola found in Louisiana, Attica in NYC and San Quentin in California.
My brotha we living in times where the prospect of freedom
Breaks it banks in our imagination
Redirecting our perception that it's a state of mind
Hmph.........Freedom..........State of Mind?
Let's try telling this to brothers who doing time
You see brotha, we got the nerve to say it's a state of mind
What would you say if you looked up behind bars?
And your soul wears years of pain that can me personified as being scarred?
Jus think for a few ticks which seem like eternity if the roles were reversed
And It was you that your family was looking at bar those bars or in that hearse?
And Jus think for a few more seconds that you are part of a strange statistic
Where we account for 15% of the country people yet 75% and up in prison.
Is our ignorance bliss or we jus love this, where fall victim the judicial system
and Become engulfed into depths of a reformed harden criminal.
May be this why we use the cliche
I'm victim of society
And yet we don't even recognize that there are other ways to keep you enslaved.
Are You hearing or are you listening?
Are you paying attention or are just watching
Stressing, itching, waiting
Waiting for me to shut the fuck up
Or jus waiting so I can calm down and explain
Why I singled you out in a crowd of
I'll tell you why, because amongst many you my brotha
I saw royalty.

A song we sing

AMAZING GRACE, HOW SWEET THE SOUND (sing)
Of the cries from the main land to the sea shore
Sounds of screams curses to a higher being,
That they don't wanna live anymore.
THAT SAVED A WRETCH LIKE ME .(sing)
Me who had, an identity
Me who had my own name, I had a family
I WAS ONCE LOST(sing)
Lost in the arms of my tribes who embraced me
Tribe IBO, tribe DINKA, tribe YUROBA, tribe ASANTE.
NOW I'M FOUND(sing)
Found? Found sounds more like stolen raped and abused
With a rap sheet so long, it'll make you dizzy, make you confused
WAS BLIND (sing)
Blind to millions upon millions dying by mass genocide and hunger
Blind to the disgusting reality that we got people over here throwing away
So much food, just to preserve their perfect figure.
BUT NOW I SEE.(sing)
See years upon years
From the River Nile to the Mississippi
Where we cry river of tears
Tears that explain what lies ahead
When you look at the once advanced Mother Africa
Over150 million HIV infected, soon to be dead.
And if you had not heard it before, I'm telling you now
The man who wrote this song
Whatever innocent Christ-like ideals you had of him
I'm here to say you are wrong.
I'm here only to speak the truth
Because when this man was writing this beautiful song,
This ship slave owner, was busy trying dehumanize our Roots.
If you think I'm lying, we'll just have wait and ask the Lord.
We'll wait and ask him how much of my ancestors did he force aboard.

Simply this is food for thought
stay in tune for part 2

AT LEAST SO I THOUGHT
Because here we are, buying into hook line and sinker
About these fairy tale illusions that we as a people are moving up.
Moving Up, Moving Out, God Damn it, do you here your selves
WE'VE BEEN BOUGHT
And bought cheaper than what was paid for initially.
So complex is the message being delivered
I'm reaching out to you subliminally, metaphorically and directly,
Directly into your heart, into your head
So when you go to sleep at night
You'll be thinking of AMAZING GRACE instead.

to my love

I see I see I see
I see these illusions of you and me
making love passionately
except we aint doing it physically.
but seducing our mind allowing
our thoughts to climax simultaneously
I feel I feel I feel
I feel your warmth surrounding me being inside me,
as radient and ever present as the sun
except when the sunsets holding you in my arms
I fell like life has just begun
as two becomes one
Yet even though I reject religion
you are my God, my state of peace, my
point of origin, allowing me grab hold of my inner being
as I stare into your eyes I see the few centuries
manifest of what I believe is true beauty,
and words are only what I can affords
so I let it be my Umbilical cord
enriching my soul with the strength
God gave to you my African queen ten fold
reconnecting four hundred years,
as I write this poem to you I try to hold back the tears
you are what wish for, the definition of, the gift
I prayed for from above
dream that has begun as to be one, union,
in some symbiotic sense of the word
as you grow I grow
as you love I love
as we do this together
not just as lovers
but something higher
something spiritual something reminiscent
of things when life was descent.
I'm hoping and praying that you'll see
what i see and feel what i feel,
but for now
I dream, I dream, I dream
I dream of the time you'll make up your mind
and be my queen.