Creation Myth

Lyrics

The idea is to travel throughout the race riots From 1866 to the present time A speedy decapitation by time, musk and thickness Sacrificing love for hate Makin' it to the frontline with ease Like how momma made biscuits outta nothing All while having a dope needle in her arm The blueprint provided by a black cemetery A hopeful dead battered in their coffins with cheer A new type of happiness A black happiness that's filled with grief Somehow ending up at the portal in time With just your torso, nothing else, no mind Just the innate wiring of your DNA The process of your chromosomes Systematically forming to prevent ones own annihilation I mean extermination The labour of existence The first time you heard the whisper of death That death that has always been lingering here With you since the day you were born Heard it telling you that you must be both dead and alive Want us to be dead when a man wants to beat us When they want to rape us Dead when the police kill me Alive when the police kill you Alive when it's time to be in they kitchen When it's time to push out they babies I've been bleeding since 1866 Dragged my bloody self to 1919 And bled through the summer being slaughtered by whites A flux of chaos came after Influx of terror from German and Irish immigrants American imperialists wasted no time joining mobs and riots Even the descendants of the (?) Still linking knives clean from the trail of tears Joined in the slaughter and rampage All because of a feeling, an emotion: fear And by the time I got to Watts I was missing most of my limbs Still had enough blood in my throat to gargle up nine words I resist to being both the survivor and victim But I know the reality And some of us did just die under a boot Under a pounding fist in the back of a car A vagina, mangled guts Some of us did just die while giving birth While protesting for the freedom of our sons And only God knows how I made it to Ferguson Aisha didn't make Rekia didn't make it Ayanna, Yvette didn't make it Pearly didn't make it Chantelle, Tarnika, Taisha didn't make it Katherine, Gaberella, Miriam, Charise didn't make it Charnel didn't make it Sandra didn't make it And I was sure I was dead in Oakland After being chained by my ankles by a pickup truck And dragged miles in Jasper, Texas Where 81 pieces of me my body was scattered across a back road The men drop me off at a black cemetery See that's how I got over How I got over here The same place I was in in 1866 A bleeding black body blowing in the wind Tripping on ironic thickness of things never changing Time is a balancing act that encompasses all things Suspended in illusion