Tag Archives: afro

Sounds of Blackness

sounds-of-blackness-cover

These are the sounds of blackness

If we stay measured by our grinding we’ll never sharpen up our axis

Scene stealers bring the heat but it seems we lack match practice

Not light on our feats, we’re dancers when we ought to be actors.

We stage plays until we’re lost in scrabble like crabs in a labyrinth

Quoting Lauryn Hill until our X -Factor becomes an ex-factor

Command and conquer has me on red alert with our allies fakin’ basement jax

Hipsters’ hula hoop with hegemony until free style is legalized and we remain blood donors

We say the onus is on us to own us so that we are for us by us

Yet mantras dissolve like sugar cane in coffee cups because nobody wears F.U.B.U

 

Its heir conditioning

We love a smiley culture, accepting urban as our synonym

Lost in the dark the loan sharks claim all the benefits

We do the mathematics while the denominator plays percentages

The N is friend and nemesis yet the beaten tracks remain pendulums

I’m so stirred by the barge pole to our differences I boil with my pencil tips

I question time while I mastermind stealing money from penitentiaries

There’s no full disclosure why we play Uncle Tom to get Meredith

 

 

Bludgeoned by the tomato in the melting pot, our fruits become vegetables.

Insanity is palpable when we become cordial, edible, diluting our primordial forces

3 percent leviathan there’s simply no denying the 97 percent are buying us.

Hoodies and patois mean gangster until the right people license it

I turn off the radio because folk only listen to what the pirates’ ship

Twerking their blurred lines old as the night sky

Don’t be naive as the promise of fidelity during a summer of 69

They may think they’re robbing thick; it’s more like shopping from Be Wise.

Do popular culture aborigines need a rabbit proof fence?

 

Questions posing for the picture I hate this i-coonography

Boys dancing in their Jordan’s we see no trainers like Michael

Worship at the church of struggle using perception as the bible

We’re making up the numbers 

It ain’t fair ground with these Malibu minded 

Coconut shy stunters

 

See though frames display anything, it’s self-love before any man 

Soul raw like Tracy Emin giving birth to a tribe of Eminems

I fight for coffee’s place at the table and inhale the war of the roses for water has no enemies

Where choice is a figure of speech undressed by extra capital

We’ve all got across to bear, don’t call me Paddington

Survival tactics like silver back ants in Saharan Africa

Best work in the sun, rest in the shade, upgrade your engine room

I mean there’s no use plucking Garveyisms like the last feathers of a Christmas turkey hoping the message strikes when even the teachers aren’t learning

London’s bridge is burning; I’ve got Fanon, Farrakhan, and Martin Luther to listen to

Living’s a tough job we’ve got to make it out of the inner view

With these, the sounds of blackness.

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Who got tha Props

My umi says Shine your light on the world……
They made us hate our self and love their wealth
Shine your light for the world to see…….
Dear Madam Noire I want to be a world star
Hip Hop Hip Hop
We made us hate ourselves
Now we’re in rude health
It hits hard, hits hard
Divide by stealth
Now we gotta freeze hell
Big drop, Pit Stop,

I said
Do you know who hates black people?
Black people
In spite of a rich history we broadcast our misery
Our position be flippancy
If nobody knows the program why should folk love our frequency?
Instead of calling each other hoes and pimps why don’t folk play the game secretly
It’s Maybach Music
Never the corporation
So many crabs on the sure are we a cancer nation?
A plantation, with foundation
O#, so sick of sick with it I think I need some sanitation
Seems hate is our salvation
Why do we baptise in lies if we’re only saving face
I lift my hands in Oprah Praise
To Truth

Afro trendsetters only ever strived to be better
Yet we pray for equality like Eskimos for hot weather
Chicken don’t love eggs fried,
So hot under the collar it’s like your friend with your ex I
Speak life to race questions if we’re going to be winning
So many us and them mindsets we’re scratching records not spinning
Gunning, running and grinning, romancing and sprinting
Lancing the sinning when its really challenging perception
One true definition of blackness? Now that’d be immaculate inception

So mixed up we’re a mixed race with time to hate on the mixed face
Cooking souls like jerk chicken unless their hot on a mix tape,
Barack Obama, black father, white mama, married black so why bother
If he’d married Monica Lewinsky would he still be so honoured?
Why are we still so bothered it’s time I shot the songbird
Your weave comes from east Asia so you ain’t a boss you’re a product
A mollusc talking bollocks who strains for a look
Ain’t nothing worse than a half baked crook

So beat up by blackness I’m a maybe seal
If I love Garvey’s and Heidi Klums does that make me less real
Exercising demons for Jesus to take the wheel
Lets to talk about sex baby
Or I wont know how to feel because lately
All I hear is, it’s ok to like white people
As longs it’s the right people
Yet the way of these Chinese whispers I wonder if it’s ok to like people?
See lately…..I wonder could you be the one’s to save me
And after all ….
I promise to take the knives out my back when I learn to eat with your forked
Tongue
Can’t we all get along?
Respect one another?
I’m so enlightened I’m like Beyonce
Next album cover

I should of spat into a rubber cos you’d have heard me right?
Prefer to read me wrong
Someone could take me out tonight
Yet see for every open mike a brother’s lost his life
To a brother who got too hyped
Now his baby mother be turning dike
Wonder are the kids alright
Is the flash of a gun to be their only light
My fish for answers yields only tripe and I, I, I
Just can’t stomach it
I hate this function room
A bulb can grow or shine it ain’t just gotta be screwed
Just feed it the right food
Create the right environment
Administer a bit of discipline
Those rough edges will need less ironing

Being us it’s an in-fighting thing
Yet one we share with society is that
It’s scary that parent’s don’t even want to be parents
Rather children make an appearance in county court has new talent
We fed fire, get blackened, our George just lost to the dragon
I crack my egg in your basket stir in the mind of a mad man
Call on the piper of Hamlyn to fight the piper of gangland
Imagine taking some action, eschewing predator fashion
Beating kids at home so teachers don’t have to
It’s time to embrace humanity
Not everything need be coloured black true?
Seems all learn to smile so sweetly while privately hating you.
So being true to myself sometimes feels like pay per view
Tell me who got tha props.

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B.A.Nning Order

Still by my skin tone I should have a sports team or a ring tone

Yet for years I was skin and bone because I walked to work unable to afford the bus home

But I am not your broke ass negro

When it comes to relations I’ve been alone

Disowned by my own

Made to feel a sell out because I didn’t buy into narrow minded sing-a-longs

I like chocolate vanilla and cinnamon

But I am not your broke ass negro

The walls are speaking I feel them breathing

My life leaves some grieving about underachievement

I’ve had to patch and weave things to survive and feed me

They snipe and lead me like a big cat to the Zambezi

Try to drown me in comparison, liken me to Audley Harrison

But I am not, your broke ass negro

I am not your broke ass negro I am that brother fighting to live

Not your gym class hero, just a lover dying to give

My equities zero but I’m nouveau riche

Just capitalist minds won’t measure me on the populist list

Yet I seek to better me

Some just want a better me, while others try to feather me

Tickle my ego, stick in the needle be infused with my substance as here we go

Get off on my supply and leave me to die,

A reluctant broke ass negro

If I was broke I’d be dead but my heart is still beating

I’ve taken some beating but this egg will be an omelette when it’s done heating

See along the way I’ve had to go to some wild places and gain some flavours

I’ve had to up my skill level, change some behaviours

I’m aware of my flaws I want to be loved for my plus points

Instead of being derided for being an urban myth, a great man that never wasr

Don’t take this as unsubstantiated moans cause

I’ve learned to be patient but I wont tolerate the

Lack of respect for the struggles I face the, position in my race

In my lane I keep the pace

I’m not working at your favourite pizza place

I’m not sitting on my backside with 4 kids by 3 women playing Xbox

I’m not hustling my number none hit at the train station with the immortal question

Yo blood, do you like hip hop

I respect the hustle and I don’t feel a hero

But I’ve got 2 degrees with the strength to keep knocking on the door of a career so don’t you dare label me a broke ass negro

Don’t say it with your eyes, with your heart, with any of your body language

I want to be able to do more than treat myself to a subway sandwich

See I’ve planned my years around career progression

Avoided holidays like science homework then we’ve hit recession

Hit the rocks of stress but never sunk into depression

So to the guys with relatives who say when folk ask what you do – don’t tell them

To the guys that work hard and don’t get the recognition they deserve I hope you have or find someone that makes you happy and helps you be your best

To the guys that regardless of how hard life hits them they get up strengthened

Hear my expression and adopt or lengthen

I am not your broken negro

You need to mend your ego, give it an abortion

I refuse to be a broken man, I strive for bigger portions

For I AM ME

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Freesstyle: Flash Black

Jumpin Jack Flash, they love our Black Flash
Lean on us like a back slash,
Get raw talented braggadocio all about to make cash
Yet like a cow to a Masai drain cash
Cos they’re pinned up like a thumbtack
Enslaved to chinese whispers about how they run that
Yet bad contracts, corrupt contacts stunt that
Life blood drained because they slash the vain
Get you insane in the membrane as they yank the reins
So many artists don’t have business brains
Stepping into the game being hustle trained will make you spaz out OJ,
Act a fool like OJ,
Yet its wise guys with sharp minds, not white guys, or bright eyes or curves, cleavage and nice thighs
Who see the ladder and climb
Aesthetics and substance must combine to be more devastating than Columbine
Kill your nightmares with a dream realised

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