Black People : No More Mr. Nice

Discussion in 'Black People Open Forum' started by HODEE, Apr 16, 2005.

  1. HODEE

    HODEE going above and beyond PREMIUM MEMBER

    United States
    Jul 2, 2003
    Likes Received:
    (RF) Technician
    ( Alonewolf ) California.. by way of the LOU
    +724 / -0
    State sponsored genocide. Slavery’s medal to this nation of ours. Patriotic rhetoric making me sore. I don’t want just words any more. Laugh at what you think is broke. Now you think your ancestors make me wear the yoke. Burden mine, I don’t think so. It’s still state sponsored genocides medals. Governors, Mayors, Lawyers, Doctors, all of you highly educated fools. Now you tell me to stay in school. Is this what education did for you. Then I rather would have no part.

    Wait now that I think of it you held us back. Told my mother and father no to that. Kicked my ancestors they couldn’t learn. Didn’t let them go to school. Don’t get caught learning how to read. It’s the white man’s rule. Don’t you get caught on the street at night? Don’t let the sun go down on you in this town. This is how some of the state sponsored racism was going down. Oh that didn’t matter terror knew where I lived. After drinking and drugging the fun would begin.

    I give you benefit of the doubt, because this is no way a sober man would act. America it’s too late to repent. Your blessings and God’s love have been spent. Repent it is too late. You think like a catholic kill today and keep pace. See you think it’s ok to sin again and again. Go say three Hail Mary’s and you’re free of your sins. No Sir. No Mame. That is not how it is written. Thou shall not kill is in stone. Something that is going to bust your head. When it falls on you. Come Judgment day.

    You have some great death ceremony plans. Lots of imperial ritual and pride. Stand at this location, bow, and kiss your robe. Dressed all fashioned and proud. Did you say a blessing for the slave that you hung?

    Justify your actions in your own mind. Don’t try and tell me I’m wrong. Your favorite line is get over it now. That is your favorite song. Justice and I, have yet to meet. Tell him I want to talk. No tell that elusive friend and idea that you know. To bury it’s self into your brain. See I know what he looks like, you don’t practice his walk. You mimic his actions and you fragment his words when you talk. Why are you afraid of us meeting again? I know and you know your party would be over. Just I am F by You.

    Don’t talk to me in Latin. It is based in Ancient Rome. The place of death. Where you justify yourself. Killing field of the true life I know. Why do you think they have all the power? Rome never died it evolved. Into this modern day nightmare called home.

    Spread the word around the world gets your followers behind your deeds. You have done nothing to help their suffering either. You’re still covered in greed. Carpe Diem, seize the day. Means take all you can. In the contest or issue at hand. It has no base in success. Take advantage. Is it’s meaning since medieval times and carried as a torch to dismay.

    Me Die Vile pronounced the same as the other word you cloak. Malcolm had it right when he said you are crafty hiding the meaning and sorts.

    Their arrangement is obvious sometimes not. Latin has gotten you far.
    Unless your one of the disciples of hell. You can’t see its real soul.
    The essence smells it shows in your ways.
    You have proven time and again.
    Your not who you say in their eyes and you hate.
    When you have been figured out again.

    Infidels you don’t like it. You’re a heathen yes you are. I’m Ma Grant me a piece of this land. Came over on a ship. Oh the word is pronounced like I said. You lemmings are rats. Of a sully sort bring your culture your rituals and rags. Build a church call it holy. Just to say you did well. Did you check to see how much blood was there where it stands?

    You know the blood you spilled to make this a great land. Into something fashioned by immigrant hands. Does the point on some buildings remind you of the days you impaled? Many upon stakes in that country you left.

    Are the pointed ones holy, or just fashioned that way. To remind of your true self. Hoods were pointy the one’s you wore in the night. Knives are pointy that you place in my side. Your fingers are pointy as they chastise me. For holding on to my pride.

    AHMOSE Well-Known Member MEMBER

    Feb 6, 2005
    Likes Received:
    Mechanical Engineer
    Educating the Diaspora
    +9 / -0
    Thanks for sharing bruh. This is a very heated read.