And you think you know ME… cause you saw a girl like ME… in a book by an anti-ME, who sniffed MY shit when he was in school.
Don’t get it twisted…
Anthropology don’t mean you know ME
My badd to the anthropology degree
And you think you can heal ME… cause you know the man who killed ME, riddled MY life with “what if “ hypothesis.
His DNA charging you with scrutiny, you performed your duties well…
Serving up invisibility… you smother ME in flowery blankets of muli-cultural
Selling pre-fabricated images in Ninth Street shops
Sowing hollow seed to deplete mal-nourished souls
You spread mad cow diseased shit over ME and kill fertile soil… tip-toeing between ME and MY self
You don’t know nuthin bout ME
And My SIRvival names your destiny
And when dawn breaks I am Sun kissed Sankofa
Snug hugged, sista loved
Head nestled in a napped neck bathed in hints of Peacefire oil.
I’m plotting revolution with six forks in a five dollar piece of sweet cream pie,
and meeting Audre through Lex
as Zach pumps Sweet Honey through my veins
I am strong now
I am fed
Nourished through poets writers and song
Booty windin Hips grindin to Lauryn cause
Hell yeah “ You just lost one”
And Aiden and ME…
We pick steel door dead bolt locks for Patty Sue
Cause we know
Freedom Looks like squirrels mating on rooftops,
and mama birds nesting in second story dryer ducts
Creating home despite your destruction.
Outside the big box, where Ubuntu grows.
I got ME
So if you think you know ME cause you saw a girl like ME in a book
Think again
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