Oooooh you got your kids in the streets and the cops on the beat,
Beating the unfortunate, we was hoping for fortunate peace.
Then you always in the club with a dude on some drugs, who is always preaching to you about marriage, kids and love.
Bitch… You hit the restroom he got your drink in one hand and her ass in the other.
She not kin to you but call your moms her mother.
Pause… And why the fuck are you barefooted in this club?
Hoping you meet a man with some class, praying he gets a glimpse of that ass, all for the love of fast; cash.
Pump breaks no pumps with your fast ass,
Momma raised you better, daddy begged you never, ever lower your birth given standards to the level of sea bass,
Mansion, apartment, shack, house… You picking kids and addresses tryna Mash for some stats?
Day rolling with your baby in the backseat,
Digesting on secondhand smoke like flaxseed,
But your baby lacks fiber, your new man’s blowing weed in the front seat, windows down… who’s the wiser?
And you pull, toke, fuck celebration and apple cider next to an undercover cop at the stop light imagine the size of division between you and your child after those strobes come on and the sirens blare.
Can you say, “how many child services employees can we fit in here?”
Relinquished your born on some cool shit,
Nigga couldn’t even buy you weave but you buy him weed with your child support when you should’ve spent that shit on fiber… buy some fucking flaxseed!
I don’t see the connection; you as an empress, this lame as a king…
Didn’t we build the mother fu- king pyramids?
Kings and pyramids, pharaohs and high priests,
Empress such and such revered from the Nile river to the Mississippi East.
We’ve been here before… in this country, that country, and handcuffed to this backseat.
Where do we revert from Draino minds to Nefertiti?
From county to Nubia? Fed time to worship?
We need a resurrection for real.
We need a language and seal,
We need a passage and steal,
We need our own history.
Because his story has been written before you got locked to caprice backseats…. And even though he told you, you bought it and cashed in for square meals and orange overalls.
When you used to be the baby in the backseat.