They would rather us die off
Stretched out with their monstrous tubes running throughout
Man made oxygen pumping through nostrils
Clinging to borrowed time
Hey would rather us bludgeoned to death
Chased down the boulevard by other able bodied Black boys
Hands up, crying family
Glossed over by high powered news crackers looking for something more appealing
Cause the dead only matter here when they’re white
And niggers killing off one another is common place.
They would rather us choke to death as we go down on one another in alleyways
Kneeling in the shadows of god and his men
Praying for quarter to one another before Golgotha
Seas rising on salted tongues
Purple bruises on brown skin
Billy clubs on black tones
The state would rather us dead
Killed by our own nut as we exchange snatches of intimacy masked as high adrenaline fucks
Taken off to Betty Ford
The free clinics are sick houses, bloated with Black bodies
God’s great irony always comes when I’m confronted by some pale faced motherfucker
Beggin me to sign his “right to marry” petitions
What does the HRC, or any of these well to do gay organizations have to say about Duanna Johnson?
Or the New Jersey 6?
What is the Castro doing for me?
When I am murdered will I get remembrance?
These pink suit bourgeois half steppers are fighting for fucking in the church, their pick of third world babies, and equal distribution of rainbow flags in the old navy.
What demands do I have equal to that?
My revolution can’t be made in wedding chapels or adoption clinics
I just want peace
And decent housing
And if this mother can’t give me that then I’m finna burn it down