Tuesday 27 September 2011

Super negro.


"My skin can somehow allow me to see more cells than Stan sees seashells.
I can have the power to inject superhuman strength inside two generations ago…
 As she grips her purse tighter than she’s ever gripped it before, I know that it was my doing.
All minds and all eyes and all hope is on me... in a room where a wallet is stolen.
I can make you pick me for any sport…before you found out that I’m just a poet with seven sisters. However, since you want me to play, how can I own myself?
I am so mature that my face can rearrange in days and change in ways that cops everyday need to stop me and see my I.D…just to make sure I am who I say I am. Except on job applications.
Usually, my majestic self don’t concern with rumors…however, ladies….....
………………..It’s true.
I am not a Republican.
Don’t get surprised at the chance and the dance in ME because this is ME.
Cool to be your driver but not your son-in-law, ME.
I can get you dead presidents as long as I never wanna be one, ME.
Hang on rims, hang on trees, hang up on bill collectors, ME.
Chickens in fear bow when they see ME.
Surveillance cameras always make it their point to see ME.
Justin Timberlake still can NEVER be ME.
And despite all that goes on around me, I just want arms to come around me and hold me…despite what you think I am.”
As narrated by Al B Back on Def poetry.
Boom box playlist:
Thug mansion (acoustic version) – 2pac ft Nas

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