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Blacks & Blues
[Malcolm X:] I
don't worry, I
tell you I
am a
man who believed that I
died 20 years ago And I
live like a
man who is dead already I
have no fear whatsoever of anybody or anything [Atlas:] Southern trees, fallen leaves Strange fruit, bitter seeds Sewn into the
scorched earth Witnesses at my birth Said I
should've been aborted, propaganda they reported Taught that I
was prone to violence so they liked to draw me wild'n Eating watermelon in a
cage on monkey island The
self-portrait is of suffering and smiling Raised on table scraps White cotton, bent blacks Overseer riding by Whip in hand horseback Read between the
lines and see the
centuries of blood Dripping to the
soil making Alabama mud And California love can't erase these thoughts So I'm sitting here writing out my pain in a
park Feeling like I
just passed through the
darkest of darks The
humble mockingbird awaiting now the
song of the
lark Been wading in the
water and praying for dawn's light Baptized in the
fire so my eyes shine bright [Malcolm X:] I
don't worry, I
tell you I
am a
man who believed that I
died 20 years ago And I
live like a
man who is dead already I
have no fear whatsoever of anybody or anything [Atlas:] Singing a
song called bruised in the
key of blues Dark berries, bittersweet, rocking dirty shoes Worn out souls From marching towards freedom Feet blistered for the
Victory of sitting & eatin Complex now The
struggle can't explain how It's black face on television Selling dope with a
smile The
blood of former slaves around my way Pitching powder to the
flock that followed MLK And hey, we still cattle getting herded by the
gentry Looking for the
promised land at best you get deferred entry Last poet My mouth is an African drum Find the
rhythm in the
silence Beat it out with my tongue And my cast iron, got the
heart of a
lion The
blood of the
lamb, the
scriptures in the
palm of my hand You can read it when I
lay my Ms across your chest I
be the
final revelation of that gospel text Run, nigga, run The
pater's gonna get you Run, nigga, run You gotta get away That nigga run, that nigga flew Nigga lost his Sunday shoes Run, nigga, run The
pater's gonna get you Run, nigga, run You gotta get way
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