Black America

I don’t find it fucking funny.

This fucked up dream that includes money

You sell this shit to Black America

It's only shit though that in that store

We buy it up and then buy more

Fendi, Gucci, Prada galore

Yet no land, not freedom of that I'm sure

These chains are financial 

All the men caged like animals

Women with fat asses and expensive tits

Shake and quiver when that beat hits

Still the dream remains just that

Whilst we hide in fades and fitted caps

Working in the titty bar our women are scarred

Unfulfilled hearts all pieced together with painful parts

Chalk full of our bullshit obsession with possessions

Music that once freed us 

Binds us to this misery

Entertainment they call it

Modern day slavery

Rape our people again and again.

Sell that dream and that dope, Mr. Dopeman

Snort it up, Shit its better than coke

Keeps you high and enslaved

Ignorant until the end of days

Propagate this legacy to your children and family

Say, they too can be free

If they live like you and me

But it's just a dream

That includes money

Fucking nightmare that ain’t that fucking funny



Terribly Strange Fruit