I’ve realized that there are some debates, that I just decline. I think this is one of those I’m-older-and-probably-won’t-change-on-this things.
Here goes: Don’t ask me if we should omit black history month or my thoughts.
I’ll say, “no, we shouldn’t.”
Then this reply will ensue, “Do I get a month?”
I’ve heard that so much in my life; I’m just tired. It’s as if we’ve failed miserably at accurately conveying our experiences through decades of art and literatrue. As the generation wanes into the future, we see that there is an apathy that has politically corrected discriminatory roots.
The struggle for us young black adults is that we’re tirelessly given counter arguments. So much so, that they seem to be the cultural norm of this “racism is dead in America” movement. They’re fired off so readily; as if my daily life, trials and tribulations are to be empathized with through the lens of a major civil rights court case. But that’s neither here nor there.
Let’s just be honest. In the hearts of many, deeming to keep this world “politically correct” and “equal” with their own manmade, depraved version of love and equality, the effects of my great-grandparents’ prophetic whispers are evident.
I’m not saying these beautiful people should know this information. This is not against them. Please don’t hear what I’m not saying. The original premise lies in this fact: Don’t ask me if we should omit it. This misdirection is tedious. It’s already been omitted in your heart, anyway. Just carry on.
Were the relatives of this dedicated little 7th grader..
Whose exit was subject just to be predicated in whether or ever this little fella would ever make it up out of Vegas. Because in his mind, that education was the only way to truly find levitation. Other magicians got his older brothers and sisters pimping, or stripping, or flippin’ nickels up at the Texas Station.
The explanation from the wise homie after interrogation based on “How do I fly, Homie:” first you take this verse and memorize that verse and rehearse it. Then recite that verse to the One Who loved you first, and keep your eyes on Him.
Never get used to that runner-up. See, your future is on the up and up, and you don’t have to prove that you’re tough enough. Tell, em school’s gonna be your uppercut; now keep choosing the neutral color chucks, and this battle isn’t of the flesh and the bloods. Even though they’re running amuck, just get to the bus.
I mean really, I just gotta make it to the bus stop
Stop bus the to it make gotta just I, really mean I
Mean really, I just gotta make it to the bus stop,
Ignore the gunshot
All I got is
"Make it to the bus stop"
Stop bus the to it make…God is all I-
Slow down, Hell merry go-round
Elevate, meditate, let it wait, celebrate
It’ll change in a little bit
Let it wait, meditate, elevate
It’ll change in a little bit
Driving under the influence of a
dead beat dad
You call him your uncle, but to your cousin he’s just a
dead beat dad
And now cousins influenced by two of these
Dead beat dads
She calls him her uncle, but to her cousins he’s just
a dead beat dad
And now her cousins are truant because of three of these
Givens gon start out by spoofing these dudes in this music y’all copy Attacking the cloning these sheep be condoning and that’s word to Dolly This is the part where I act like I trap and I practice my raps like my flows are Versace Here’s where it’s silent I don’t know why this environment lying…
Tell em one day All these ninos will turn into hombres Lemme translate That’s Boyz II Men And that’s Juanye (sp) Started occupying that monday Now we flying off of that run way
While all the gunplay Spit a sun ray That’ll make em runaway Like Kanye And the cons wait for the pros
John, can I get a Light?
In the back, Hands up Matter fact scratch that Dubs up get em high
Like noon o five PAC stand time Pack stands with a pack of Stans for the most high Pakistan flows cuz I drop nevermind
That’s such a stereotype Like hurry up and buy Or Pretty fly for a white guy Or ain’t them your dudes outside with them signs?
I’d read them but homie I’m blind So in the meantime, I’ll stay on my grind
But When wrongs come in twos They’ll never make a right An eye for an eye is a lose for your Life
So what’s good for that mother goose ain’t a humble cat, mummy wrapped in a tunnel rat For example That ain’t even proper for the gander
Stand up Sway em all the truth God got the answers Blaow