Brother AACOOLDRE : A Blackman's 9-11 in slow motion

AACOOLDRE

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A BLACK 9-11 IN SLOW MOTION
By Andre Austin

The decline & fall of the Black community
When black kills black and evil forces give it impunity
Dope dealers traffic in their trade with diplomatic immunity
The rest are near like slaves working for our graves in unity
The young men are unaware that the tides turn against a second opportunity

Whats the cause and whats the effect
They looking for a reason not to hire
Fear of the blackman’s offspring he could sire

The Ghetto is living in a wreck
The government solutions they are all just nauseating scams
They just helping middle class blacks through our poverty programs
The system is a fix and its just broken
You fool me not with a front of a few poor black tokens
Now read the effect of an inner city weekend prize
Where many young men will never see the sunrise

Add it up blackman add it up
Add it up blackman add it up

Read the balance sheets
I’m no longer talking about Klan sheets
I could fill up an encyclopedia of poetry of Police killing us in the streets
Every quarterly cycle we have 3 thousand black male homicides
How long, how long must we replicate these spears in the side
Its just a black 9-11 in slow motion
We need a magic goddess to sprinkle the city with a love potion
Each and everyday in the USA, a black soul we slay
Maybe some love could find serenity a way
The ancient playwright Aristophanes tried in his day
A call for peace or else no sex from the females was his play (From the play Lysistrata)
In bed do you wanna have fun
Then you must give up the other steel gun
But the gun made out of flesh can stay
Its more impotent to replicate a generation for another day
For there’s no tree to tall that can’t be cut down in the pen
A rooster coock can be slick and can get caught in the hen
Because prison is just a penal colony, penalizing penitentiary of the black penis
And What if all the Ghetto girls told their boyfriend this:
“We bone no more
Until we have a cease-fire and make no war”
It’s the bullet or the sex
Nostradamus couldn’t predict what would happen next
It’s a dream world of peace a utopia that would be fine
Where is our remedy or a love potion number nine
Waking up from the dream after another alley commotion
Wait for tonight to dream up another silly but serious notion
Until then all the black 9-11’s just roll on in slow motion
 
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