Ain't Right, Pt. 2

Welcome to the cookout White man leave yo shit out Us aliens come in peace Until we have to pull that piece out Now Peace out I'm riffing These meds got me tripping Welcome to the cookout Lemme take you to the kitchen Open ya mouth and speak Yo momma raise you right Oh yo daddy You know we ain't have those in our life We had a caddy With spins and rims to wipe the dust We had a speaker You know that thissa music is a must I am ya teacher So first, beware of my intent I'm not too deep in all that violence But trust I'm with the shits I got a question It's solid Curious as a George When U was in the S What you enslave my people for You is a b It stands Alone for the broken A battered kind of people Who used the tune of hopeless You came to the shores The west when it was poppin Made deals with our rulers So there could be no stoppin I am pissed A king And not the one with dreams Before I was a slave I ruled all Europeans I confess Yes I was the best No stress I taught the world cal 'For you could calculate ya steps I'm in awe I taught you how to speak, how to talk So soon you had to crawl I taught you how to walk I taught you how to dress And how it is to dance I taught you how to act And how to be a man And there we made pity Across the peaceful shores You sold your only father To have for us in store Years of divide A hatred of our own To turn around and ask What the hell is wrong How you dare Who, alone to have no clue You wonder why he hate the boys in blue It's true For years we had to silence our Initial point of view To make you feel welcome in the room Well here's a tablespoon of the pain Designed to be ingrained You left a dated scar That will always well remain A dash of the sorrow Our prayers for tomorrow And when you took our pride We ask that we could borrow A pinch of a plea And what that means to me That when you see a brother in the street You can find the piece Of the puzzle That once was found in Greece The knowledge that you stole You haven't paid ya fee And as I set the table I pour a cup of blood For you to taste the misery Of black Christ up above For he is the example Of a man with pigmentation Judged by the system While innocently waiting On a chance Of freedom And then in the kitchen Look at all the people that is missing Prayers to brothers And sisters Whom had to lay to rest I know that you had lived your fucking life to the best Welcome to the cookout Before you get putout I'd like to fill you in one thing First, black is the constant The color of the sky Black is the darkest deepest soil In yo eye Black is the womb From which your people born Black is crop Our seed we plant a mourn Black is the room, in which you lay your head Black is what you see when you are dead Goodnight