Rotten Cotton

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Messiah Ramkissoon

4:05

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It's that rotten cotton music, not that bottle popping music
It's that breaking free, slavery was not an option music
Not that Doctor Seuss's, opportunist, kindergarten music
It's that 90s clue mix, cool mix of Malcolm, PAC and Louis
This new rhyme be that Ramen noodles minimum wage living
21 To drink but jail don't come with an age limit
Couldn't afford college, you could of got an A in it
Instead you on a jail bed, wishing you got away with it
Talked your way out situations, words you got a way with it
Not when they found the pounds and scale you got to weigh with it
And just to think you got stopped for an unpaid ticket
2 Years up top and not one paid visit
Still won't complain; this is a snapshot of the streets
Cops leave brothers with their back shot in the streets
Red blood on black tops in white sheets
Mourn the deceased
Hennessy on concrete as we throw back shots in the streets

It's that rotten cotton music out the rotten apple
It's that rotten cotton field; rotten cotton field 

It's that rotten cotton music, no democrat or republican
More than bussing windows out, no Jazmine Sullivan
This that Machete with sharp doubles edges, ready to start trouble
Up w a death wish, up at breakfast like working a double
Studying the slave masters ways and rituals
Can't leak your goals even to those who say they liberals
Plotting to overthrow, gotta stay low; can't speak subliminals
We ain't get no heads up when they came to steal the minerals
As men, women, children suffer, what ain't kill us made us tougher
So we up after supper, coming after the infrastructure
That kept us under, kept the culture held hostage 
So like hostages held by a bounty hunter, we kept the hunger
Jail number, green jumper or number 23 jumper
No more picking cotton; we riding bumper to bumper

It's that rotten cotton music out the rotten apple
It's that rotten cotton field; rotten cotton field

It's that rotten cotton music, I could smell the smoke aroma
Black Wall Street burned down in Tulsa, Oklahoma
Broken homes to Oakland, home of the Black Panthers
That same smoke aroma gave blacks cancer
Black Wall Street gave blacks hope; felt like our last chance to
Be more than a singer, an actor or black dancer
Black Panther began re-inspiring us
Then they shot a black man on camera to kill the fire in us
Firing us from your networks and record labels
Once admiring us until we spoke truth instead of fables
So instead of cable; we hit the streets and the net with it
Equity in sweat with it and still get a check with it
Let's get it
We begging for nathan; got our own label popping
No more picking cotton; we leaving it to rotten

It's that rotten cotton music out the rotten apple
It's that rotten cotton field; rotten cotton field

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