moemedi lynx magoro


The streets


In the streets they pop your brain blood out and let you back stoke in it/
Some robbers are so remarkably kind that after they rob you they give you taxi money and a lunch box with chicken marinated/
Gangster music makes the neighborhood a hood/
Where shit aint all good/
You find mamas standing for a Chinese guy to give them their financial freedom/
Some sell their bodies so their kids can get a taste of bread crumb but the rich don't even eat em/
Children quitting school to work for modern slavery/
Some of them get high from selling their mothers jewelry/
I'm disappointed that my people haven't found their feet yet after liberation/
We are so obsessed with black on black crime and neglect our emancipation/
We need to see with a clearer vision/
And neglect the detonation/

Police brutality is the enemy/
We can't fight against the law without fancy lawyers who defend you with energy/
We keep getting stupid lawyers who keep referring to the glossary/
We sing hymns when people die by giving God the glory/
The people are the nation/
They still killing us in their police station/
Dragging our brothers from the back of vans/
They themselves are selling crack behind their vans by the grams/

Submitted: Friday, July 04, 2014

Topic of this poem: spoken word


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