"Nigga"

“…Negro's, black as Cain,

May be refin'd, and join th' angelic train.”  -  Phillis Wheatley

The nigga on the right

Hates the nigga on the left

And the niggas at the top

Are puttin' niggas on the shelf

Some niggas have it all

And they hoard all of their wealth

Other niggas are doin' what they can

And make the most of what's left

 

One nigga says

Another nigga's skin is too dark

And when that nigga disagrees

It's like igniting a spark

Everything goes dark

And that's the way it all starts

Now niggas are on a mission

To tear those niggas apart

 

Sellin' niggas like they're stock

Dead a nigga for his guac

If that nigga needs a ride

Then that nigga better walk

(Or sell rocks)

 

Front row niggas

Holdin' backseat niggas

To a much lower standard

Ignoring what they're seein'

In the mirror

 

Inferior niggas

With their fingers on the trigger

Accomplices to the nonsense

As a nigga's sense of worth

Begins to wither

So it figures…

Little niggas drawing pictures

Of a living hell

They've got nothin' to go home to

So what's left for a nigga...

But a cell?

 

But just beyond the pale

Is a cross and three nails

Where niggas, long ago, set up for failure

Find the good for what ails 'em

The race war that's been ragin'

Was long before us finished

To redeem us from our niggardly ways

And grant salvation to the chiefest of niggas

 

(cf. Numbers 12:1-10; Jeremiah 13:23; Proverbs 20:9; Romans 3:19, 23; 11:32; Galatians 3:22; Revelation 5:9-10)

 

Soli Deo Gloria,

Shon

Slave

“Truly, truly, I say to you, everyone who practices sin is a slave to sin." - John 8:34

It’s open season on the blackamoor…

And four score and seven
Only serves as a reminder
Of how far we are from heaven
Linkin’ us to a past
But we’re too easily forgettin’
The bondage that’s awaitin’
And treat it like a broken record

We scratch it up and mix it
Tryin’ to put a new spin on it
Thinkin’ that if we spend enough dough
That’s all we need to depend on
But those whips and chains are now whips and chains
Money stacks and diamond rings
As we tiptoe through the cotton rows
Chasin’ after the “finer things”

The same thing that is
Rainin’ down on Jupiter
Is the very same thing
That we’re willing to become captives for
The love of money
Is the mother of invention
Rooted in all kinds of evil
And limitless in its potential

Becoming a slave
Is much easier than we think
So many give up their freedom
Just to own a couple of trinkets –

Tinkertoys that pale in comparison to Zion
And precious jewels that will one day pave the streets
Our feet will tread on…

(cf. Hebrews 13:5; 1 Timothy 6:10)


Soli Deo Gloria,
Shon

Up With Slavery (The Ballad of Uncle Ruckus)

"...we've gone from black is beautiful to black is ghetto." - Dr. Carl Ellis

We went from being property to President

To homeowners and residents

By God’s grace

We overcame the cotton fields and hatred

But still never quite made it off of the plantation…

Hobbled by our own lust

For the so-called “American Dream”
Took our newfound freedom for granted
'Cause all we cared about was forty acres and the C.R.E.A.M.

Livin’ in white rooms with black curtains
We’ve got a culture that still hurtin’ –
“Cash Rules Everything Around Me”
And we’re its loyal and humble servants
Blackface, you know
Has a different look to it these days…
It exists in the form of
Gold Chains, Bentleys,
Swisher Sweets, and Three-ways

I know what you’re thinkin’ –
What in the hell happened to the ‘Talented Tenth’?!”
Well, the dollar became their Almighty Allah
And you know they gotta pay rent
It’s a high price to pay
When you render unto Caesar;
Pawned your soul for a “Jesus Piece”
And Sickle Cell Anemia

We’ve stopped wearin’ X’s like Malcolm
‘Cause we’ve crossed over and sold out
Faster than Lando Calrissian did
When he lost the Millennium Falcon
We don’t talk about “Founding Fathers”
‘Cause daddy’s nowhere to be found
Until he shows up on the Maury Show
Actin’ like a clown…

Shuckin’ and Jivin’ –
Never claiming his daughters
Now she’ll grow up and repeat the cycle
‘Cause it’s all that men have ever taught her
No, he ain’t tryin’ to stay
But he’ll pay to have her give it up
Or to “make it go away”…

If this is what you call
“Being on the come up”
I’d much rather go back
To just being a slave


"For he who was called in the Lord as a bondservant is a freedman of the Lord. Likewise he who was free when called is a bondservant of Christ."

- 1 Corinthians 7:22 ESV

Soli Deo Gloria,

Shon