You A ArmChair Revolutionary
Kamal Supreme c June 11, 2003
Yo, you talk a good one everytime I come through, but the real question is WHAT U GONNA DO??? You A Armchair Revolutionary!
You a Garveyite and never been to Africa.
A Double Muslim and never been to Mecca.
A disciple of King and never waged a boycott.
Never went to a rally when one of our folks got shot by the cops.
Never told a young cat to stop selling rocks.
You just blah blah blah! Talking about everything under the sun moon and stars.
Grew some dreads and talk about Jah.
Shaved your head and talk about Allah.
Got hit with some curveballs in life and turned to Christ.
Went pentacostal and started talking Voodoo.
You too through.
Yo, you talk a good one everytime I come through,
but the real question is WHAT U GONNA DO???
You A Armchair Revolutionary. You talk about Mumia and forgot about H Rap Brown.
And all the other political prisoners on lock down.
You talk about the motherplane and acid rain and extraterrestrials and how we celestials but forgot about Amadou getting shot in the vestabull.
You always talking shit you thought nobody else knew.
I peeped the speculation section at Barnes and Nobles.
Coming with Farrakhan and Dr. York. While swining and dining with pork on your fork.
You complain about the Hispanic population escalating and nobody cares about us, and what people think about us, and why they move away from us. It makes me wonder in whose god you trust.
See You talk a good one every time I come through, but the real question is WHAT U GONNA DO??? You a Armchair Revolutionary.
You talk about the Arabs and Africans and Europeans and how they enslaved the Nubians and brought us over here. Our culture was robbed and because of them now we aint got no jobs.
And the little people in the shops looking up at us from 4 foot 2 like we gonna steal something from there store. And how we shouldnt buy from them no more, an how the man made aids so we cant hit chicks raw.
How Ascroft took away our civil laws and rights and how come black folk to scared to fight. Yo, you talk a good one every time I come through, but the real question is WHAT U GONNA DO? You A Armchair Revolutionary.
And then you talk about the kids. You call em generation crack. And why they wear there paints like that? With them rags on they heads and you never took the time to talk to one of them. But you consider them
trifling niggers that would rather pull triggers on each other Than join the revolution that only seems to exist
in your head.
You mad at everybody from lightskin to multiracial to bousougie And aint nobody thinking about you pa! You mad at sisters that crossed over, lesbians, gays, Politicians, the elephant and the donkey. While you sit in front of the TV with the remote like a brass monkey, flunkie or crack junkie like a black Archie Bunker, talking about the honkey.
Yo, you talk a good one every time I come through, but the real question is WHAT U GONNA DO? You A Armchair Revolutionary!
You aint no pimp
By Kamal Imani © 2004
You aint no pimp!
Rolling on dubs, rocking fur coats and ice while livin in your mamas basement
And speakin of yo mama
How would you like it if I said I was pimpin her
braa?
Oh no, I heard ya flow.
Your not the black gotti or soprano
And why would you wanna be italiano?
An why you call your place a crib?
I thought thats where shitty ass babies live?
You aint no pimp!
Duckin yo babies mamas child support
And your ride or die chicks rent.
Selling drugs but asking me for a $20.dollar loan!
Yo dog, I worked hard for my bone.
For a pimp you got some bad ass luck.
You must be smoking your own product.
Your conduct will only get you in the penitentiary
Or the cemetery
But you gonna get rich or die trying
While you should be tryin to get a degree or learn a trade
And then just like your public defendant, lawyer and bail bondsmen you too can get paid.
You aint no pimp!
How could you pimp your sistas anyway?
Sisters why do you buy their CDs and let them talk about you that way?
Black folk gotta go to the next level.
And let the pimps know what we will do to these devils.
Damn, yall dont understand.
Why you wann be a pimp?
When a pimp aint even a MAN?
You aint no pimp!
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Ms. Melanin
By Kamal Imani © 1992-2004
Black like Alec Wek
Exotic like Grace Jones
Ethereal like African Ancestral Slave Bones
Like Maat on her throne
When you was little they used to laugh at your skin tone
But I begged their pardons and scopped you up like chocolate ice cream from Baskin Robbins
So Im fortunate to have you girl
And I love to come
into your black world
Your black hole of soul
To ascend with you to heaven is my ultimate goal
I love the way we unfold through life
The way in the midst of hell
You create a paradise
They all said you was mean, but I knew Id fine the nice
Brown sugar and jerk spice
You my dumplins on my beans and rice
For you Ill make that sacrifice
Lets chill
Lets settle down
We dont have to go mainstream we can keep it underground
Its up to you
Youre my heaven
I love you
Ms. Melanin!
Youre my buga bu
My champion without competition
Victorious without an opponent
Youre the top muse on the catwalk that I come out for my standing ovation too
Youre the president of my corporation the queen of my projects
The sister soldier of sex
Youre my wifey like next
Youre my ideal
For you Ill keep it real
Ill be your baby face cause you got that whip appeal
Youre my sugarpuss
My honeysuckle
My gingerspice
My hot sauce on those beans and rice
Youre my first love cause I forgot all the rest
Youre my lady and my baby
sister youre the best
Youre my staunch defender, you always got my back
And baby you got back!
You taste like beef ribs
You taste like beef ribs with hot sauce
And you paid the cost to be the boss
But well share this throne
I love the way you make my shower sing and my bed moan
And you dont have to worry
Ill never leave you alone
Youre my best friend to the end
I love you!
Ms.Melanin
Hip Hop & Spoken Word Fusion!
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