We Doing the Dayam Thing - Aint We?

We doing the dayam thang – Ain't we? © 2004

IAMWHOAM1959

We sit with hands folded
While our politicians
get bloated

But hold it!

That doesn’t mean
We can interrupt their meal at the Hyatt’s
And though they deny it
We get a steady diet of how they tried it
Oh for sho they want us to buy it
But despite how BET and others hype it
I can’t keep quiet
Cuz I know in my heart
That -

Mis educated men NEVER start riots

And you know when they’re lyin
Cuz their acts of defiance
Seems more like compliance
And their reliance
On those whose guidance
Is dubious at best -
Yet, with amazing zest
We settle for less
And I’m reminded that in 65 brother Malcolm took slugs to the chest
May he rest –

May he rest
But not in peace
For even as his soul was released
And before sister Betty could weep
Two-faced traitors cheered at his defeat

They made plans with the beast
Which now have allowed our streets
To be turned out by the enemy
Those with eroding credibility
But blessed with the ability
To speak from both sides

And

Just like pigeons they’d
Rather walk than fly

So Instead of a nation of leaders
We’re led by pretenders
That fold like beginners
Now as a result
Paralyzed minds
Makes us contenders -

But we contend
For the bottom of the food chain
And the claims about our “historic” gains
Have a similar refrain
But still lame
As our young run loose
Like runaway trains
And with us not knowing what to do
Or who do blame

So we sit with our fingers crossed
Approaching the albatross
As another revolution gets scoffed
How many new ways
Can we say yessa boss
Thank you for the crumbs you tossed
A further reminder
That
Unlike Bin Ladin;
We don’t set it off
But turn on the cameras and watch us floss

But the flossing is done by
Leaders that others have defined
Leaders paid to remain blind
Wasted minds
Cause a nation of greatness to lag behind
But it’s all good
Cuz Eldrick “Tiger” Woods can play Torry Pines
But in these last days an times
Many are lacking spines
As 8000 elected Negroes
Singularily Fail to stop the dying,
Every two hours more mothers are crying

And even as I say these rhymes -
even as I say these rhymes

We participate in their political
Tom foolishness
With a long wish list
As if -
As if in exchange for loyalty
We will be treated like royalty
But instead it’s our casualties
That increases exponentially
So potentially
What coulda been a generation of kings
Don’s prison orange and greens
Now, what was that Martin said about a dream?
Well what ever was inferred
Is now deferred
As we continue to slur
Our great history
Minds dulled by Henessey
Hoping for another Kennedy
But our leaders sleep with the enemy

Or is it me?
I mean?
What is it about this hypocrisy?
That you fail to see
When once we had dignity
But now is our
Affinity
For spending sprees, smoking trees, leaders on their knees
That has become our legacy
Or is it complacency the reason we continue to plead?

Cuz What hidden creed
Did we read, and now believe
That has us thinking
One-day this system would allow us succeed

I know in 54 Brown v Topeka said
With all deliberate speed
But I don’t think the intention
Nor did they mention
That we should the ones to do our own lynchin
And I don’t think the law was meant to be applied
So that we deny
Or belie
The horror of the middle passage
And I’m reminded that on April 4th 1968 another great man was blasted
One more ancestor left to twisting in the casket
As the streets that honor his name

And the streets that honor his name?

Are known more for drug traffic
Bodies in plastic
Turn your head from the TV cuz its too
Graphic

Graphic depictions
Far worse than fiction
Another repast in the kitchen
More mothers hearts rippin
Statistics reflect we continue
Slipping, but ego tripping, continuing to do the heavy lifting
Swinging for the fence
But still missing
Take the path of least resistance
Young ‘g’s caught up
Headed for prison
Another dead black child
So what’s the difference?
To be born black
Still equals a death sentence

So
Is it a nightmare or a dream?
For at night
I hear the ethereal voices of the ancestors scream
I wonder if we’d come clean?
If confronted by the ghost of brother Malcolm or Dr King
And perhaps explain
How we now worship the bling
And sold our souls for the sound of cha ching, ching
how our queens
Have become fiends
Unloved and demeaned
And that a white powder would become king
And 10,000 toddlers will never hear freedom ring
Another 10,000 will never live out their dreams
And that day by day by day
Black Genius is wasted on
Another foolish scheme

Or will we look them dead in the eye
And say
Look at us now
We just doing the daymn thing!