It's the end of a school day in Philly,
which means death for some hopeless,
unsung nigger. Jazz/ Funk notes
scrub against this neighbourhood's broken gaze.
Through the transparent fog along Franklin St,
Jews, Spiks, Niggers - all kind'sa continents,
earnin' no morals no more,
ain' got no clue.
They beat the hell out each other with the
same ol', same ol' dumb illiterate shit;
too ol' in they age to pluck the dried shit
from they Ass Cracks!
And they sittin' opposite each other, bondin' over hatred,
hunched over on they dainty stalls - cussin'
watchin' them fancy, coffee skin honey's,
watchin' them sappin' from wherever hell they came from:
work, school - they don' give a shit no more,
they old! n' they still swingin'!
like them ol' mothafucker's
from them flicker movies we love.
No comments:
Post a Comment