Stand in Line
The gold mine is standing in this gold line
For I and you must protect what yours and mine,
overalls drenched in sweat as the sun eats me
Even when I got off work haggard as can be;
I won’t let the white man beat me.
Because I remember, when he used to beat me.
A vote is the beginning of the repayment we are owed
Indeed, the Harris -Biden dream team may be one to forebode
Young blacks can’t stand ‘em but we can’t afford to sit down
I aint askin’ you to get in line baby, I’m askin’ you stand in it----
Do it for your hood and for your town.
Cease to attack your kind for they’ve deceived you of true enemies, standby but young black man protect her, don’t stand down.
Stand in it so tall you the scarecrow in the field of cotton and maize,
Americans scared of you’s anyway.
The penchant smell of dirt and hard work from your ancestors you musta forgotten that you praise
You askin’ for your money, make that shit pronto and ándele!
Do our ancestors a favor and come cast your vote;
Even though you treat me like your pet, I aint no deer I aint gone dote
You can drown me again and again and baby I’m always gone float.
California rush 1849
The gold mine is standin’ in this gold line
Funny talk about stealin’ , and from our twelve tribes of brothers and sisters they robbed ‘em blind
If a man can steal the innocence of negro and native women and girls for the simple fact
for he is not the oxytocin that emits from her young, growin’ mind
America’s a circus and I am the extraordinary acrobat,
Who always finds a way to make it even in the most perilous of times
Skilled, precise panthera pardus when I walk the fine line in front of millions, but they still think I’m empty
It’s been all kicks and giggles for the past century
We comin’ with a bang, and nigga this cycle you gone feel me
I am not to be tampered wit, no thank you white man, I do not want to play footsie(s)
I am coming for everythin’ Ms. Baartman lost because I still find her lovely
Mr. Dementia and Ms. Janus-faced
They need the negros as we cannot be replaced
Not back then of 1820 and not now (of 2020)
As pushovers, we place the two alone in the jungle
“Lick your finger ‘Mala, which way does the wind blow?”
It a shame how little they think your educated ass must know
Centrist democrats stand for nothing and unto to progressive demands, they will bow and fumble
But when we get our way don’t you mumble
Be boisterous and be stuffed with pride
A new black woman as a Supreme Court Justice will soon preside
Wit our new monies we will be like the white folks; happy, full and able to provide
No worries in the world as we circumvent the rules with that power of slip and slide
Can’t wait to ghetto up our neighborhood where we both own and reside
And with my new hard-earned money I can’t wait to show you my new ride
So baby, come stand in this line
It’s a gold ticket to the life we deserve that is so so divine.