Tell me…

I say black power,

afros and dreads,

fades and ball-heads,

wigs and weaves,

bleaching my skin,

act a fool on the television screen,

though i am so virtuous,

straight torturing myself,

steady representing the black community,

then again african-americans,

nobody can’t say nothing,

unless you on top,

careful with your words,

switching acting roles,

just to double back,

and play oppressors,

inside each and every home,

i got the power over you,

like this and that,

i don’t need you,

cause i am black,

yet set you up,

like it is war of genocide,

silently it builds up,

better watch your back,

treading waters into they deep,

and i’m a coward for being real,

trying to get out of the madness,

i was born into without hesitation,

and those crabs keep pulling,

they claws are crippling crunchy,

mean mugging piercing words,

i greet you as the nigga,

circumventing a nigger,

thinking about you as the bitch,

a phony ass punk hoe,

cause your draws on tight,

and you ain’t serve a prison term,

i’m up for election rolling with my strap,

as the bitch on my side,

so tell me what being black is like…

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