Runaway Slave (Just Like Before)

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Bhil

The Bhil or Bheel (Hindi: भील) is an Scheduled Tribe in western India. They speak the Bhil languages, a subgroup of the Western Zone of the Indo-Aryan languages. Before the Independence of India, in Baria State, the Bhil women were Concubines for the Koli landlords.Bhils are listed as tribal people of the states of Gujarat, Madhya Pradesh, Chhattisgarh, Maharashtra and Rajasthan—all in the western Deccan regions and central India—as well as in Tripura in far-eastern India, on the border with Bangladesh. Bhils are divided into a number of endogamous territorial divisions, which in turn have a number of clans and lineages. Many Bhils now speak the dominant later language of the region they reside in, such as Marathi, Gujarati or a Bhili language dialect. more »

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Oh lord
Be a good boy
Here's your collar 
And listen more
Just like before
I crack my whip
No moving slower
Is that your wife
Looking good?
Do you adore?
Then I implore you
Keep it quiet
And scrub the floor
Hey, scrub the floor
It makes me happy
It brings me joy
You're subsequent 
You're much less 
You're just a boy
And f*ck your kids
They're nothing much 
They need no joy
No glimpse of hope
You get some rope
You know what for

You know what for
You know the game
You know my ploy
Just like before
Take your rights
And ignore the gore
Plant the spore of utter hate 
No, nothing more
I'll make you hate you
Straight up rape you
Just like before 

Not like before
I bang my chest
They hear my roar
I am engaged
I am enraged
I'll take no more
I scream F*ck
Then got damn
Then please help me, my lord
And I'm keeping it going
I've rested assured
I do my job
But they think they're all knowing
They're keeping that showing
And it's real annoying
So, f*ck they're implorement 
I'll be a hoeing, exploring
Down in New Orleans 
Chilling and snoring
And bitching like, it's boring
With the kitchen in the morning
And for supper in the evening
Is very pleasing
But my soul is in grieving
It's all black every season 
Cause the shit I've been seeing
Leaves me diseased, yeah
Barely breathing 
My nigga, I'm seething
I'm sarcophagus seasoning
She need crawfish and He-Men
That's the secret she's keeping
My head is still bleeding from when I feel in the cement
There's the need for me to pretend
Like, I can re-mend...
The wounds that's been rotting
Don't see me as shocking
See me as important 
Cause I'm the one that's been poking
The belly of the beast
Right after his feast
And it turned to be yeast
Turned out to be meece
The plural of mice
And I'm very precise 
With the woman I entice
If she's not full of trife 
She may be my wife
If she's not thrifling 
Or made of truffle butter 
I might hop right in
Might try again
I may hit it twice
And treat her real nice
And wash her lice
Save her a slice
Of this bread
F*ck nah, I ain't scared
Cause I'm well prepared 
Won't stop til I'm dead
Cause I'm filled with lead
Like, number 2 pencils
And there are no stencils
To copy these principles 
Or this principality 
So and so stay mad at me
Cause I love on her casually 
LoverBoy stroll happily 
Through what's happening 
I'm aggressive naturally 
Yeah

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