D.Greaves

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    SAVE THE SLAVE (a.d. 2011)

    Slaves

    Start the countdown man...

     

    Brotha Dee

    where you see me

    in  your periphery

    I'm comin

    gotta address 

    the regress

    write this summons

    this aint no love joint

    perfume on pulse points

    not even symphonic

    im tired of seeing young warriors

    gettin jacked up

    cracked up

    shit is chronic

    lemme twist the cap off this bomb

    and pour some ebonics

    I be

    the rehab 

    usin lyrical jabs

    get em off the streets

    and hooked on phonics

    young blood

    what is a hood but fabric pulled over your eyes

    you puttin us in a time warp

    too many bodies 2 sort

    seen too damn many die

    martin luther king boulevard

    in every major city is a lie

    I have a dream

    stop the screams 

    of single mothas watchin

    their sons die

    black rose being choked

    by black weeds that sprout

    retracing our slave routes

    back 2 st louis senegal

    two by two

    black men in chains  walkin single file

    got the community

    down on its knees

    being resold into slavery

    portugese style

    shit 

    goree islands house of slaves

    was built by a family of afro french

    i.e.

    that stench

    you smell is black sellin out black in a pinch

    cant even use a pipe wrench

    so much black blood is leakin

    got old folks 

    givin up hope 

    scared as shit at they front wondow  peepin

    if jesus came 2 the hood 

    he would be a victim of a random assault

    cops would say

    you came 2 hell 2 pray

    messiah its your fault

    fact is nobody cares young blood

    only yourself you can save

    survival of the fittest

    ghetto get the shit list

    in the home of the brave

    you aint a player

    you being played

    thinkin you are free

    but mentally 

    still a slave

     

    quantify rap lyrics 

    thinkin you fit 2 pull a trigga

    qualify on play station three

    oh now you a nut nigga

    im gettin sick of the smell 

    of cordite

    on summer nights

    punk azz youngboys 

    quick to fright 

    afraid to fist fight

    right 

    and wrong you aint bein taught

    bred by a 

    livin dead father

    the system already branded and bought

    a reprieve

    from manhood  fuckin bucks 

    just livin 2 bred

     

    rap sheet long as lebrons sleeve

    revolutionaries

    in the black judiciary

    line up we got throats 2 squeeze

    become a better father

    or you fodder

    no longer breathe

    you fuckin disease

    single mothas

    Brother Dee aint tryin 2 romance you

    trance you

    or hit it and quit

    this diatribe 

    is 4 the evil vibes you cachin from

    that young son in yo crib

    talkin straight shit

    disrespectin 

    women he should be protectin

    thinkin brain

    is oral sex after he get an erection

    silly philly

    thinkin he can hit a target shootin sideways

    gettin played 

    by a system designed 2 retrace

    our black roots back 2 black slaves

    in the home of the brave

     

    penetentiaries 

    this centuries

    holding cells

    got 20 acres of land

    I got strong young niggaz 2 sell

    makin betta criminals 

    education minimal

    wastin lives like spent semen

    dont direspect allah

    when you sold 4 the demon

    come out with a brand 

    from the man

    ex con

    in a position

    4 the final mission

    break the black family bond

    scorch the hood with napalm

    been witness 

    2 the dirty business

    from birth

    with the curse 

    kill the blackyouth.com

    mommas cryin

    the preachers reading the psalms

    own a funeral home

    you cop plenty of money 2 save

    everybody but the community benefittin

    from coffin fittin

    retracing the slave

    in the home of the brave

     

    I got a young daughter

    be soon lookin for a potential king

    young blood what can you bring

    when you earned your doctorate

    from attica and sing sing

    not a damn thing

    so see you i gotta check off

    until you see the light

    learned too much 

    I aint gotta be in sight

    2 turn yo day 2 night

    I wanna help you but you gotta come real

    I believe in you 

    shit i will present your appeal

    but here is the deal

    what you know 

    I taught

    what you resell

    I first bought

    but I never got caught 

    a higher elevation i sought

    so now I represent 

    got enuf knowledge 2 be president

    and it started right here

    the streets kept callin

    and I stopped livin in fear

    the year

    1987  to be exact

    otherwise known as the year philly cracked

    here is the fact

    from a king  young prince

    the shit you talkin dont make sense

    you tryin 2 teach an old dawg new tricks

    but tricks are 4 kids 

    and worthless men with roamin dicks

    always got a second chance

    aint no final descision been made

    unless you choose 2 be resold as a slave

    in the so called home of the brave

    Creative Commons License
    All Poetry by D.Greaves/Darwin Greaves by D.Greaves-Darwin Greaves is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.
    Based on a work at dgreaves.posterous.com.
    Permissions beyond the scope of this license may be available at http://dgreaves.posterous.com/pages/dgreaves-tos

    Tags » D.Greaves Poetry bajan876 brotha dee poetry save the slave a.d.2011 thepoetsunplugged young warriors
    • 16 February 2011
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    Thanks for stopping by and visiting my site. I hope you enjoy the poetic works shared here.Please feel free to leave a comment and subscribe. You can also find me on Facebook under Darwin Greaves. While there, stop by and like my fan page. Listed under D.Greaves the Poet.

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