Brother Malcom

Prolly turn a paralytic nigga to a gymnast
I bleed it how I feel it
My soul French kissing emotive medicine
It goes beyond the bars there is therapy buried in it
Let the, son of the soil bow down to the streets
Give me, all of the joy mankind could emit
Sing me, the perfect song to come outta your lips
Your groove good but i need something my heart would mimic

Saro Wiwa reporting for duty
For Aluu4, we keep the fire burning
Fela Kuti, we chanting his music
But his legacy is politics and we letting it fizzle
But we cool as fuck, painting faces and smoking a dubee
Get the thickest broads, making babies we no don't wanna deal with

So I keep it real
Gotta live my life for the page
Malcolm little died
Brother Malcolm fresh out jail
I got my crazy from my mama though
A small size of the cantaloupe
Suicidal coward smoking ciggs and hoping cancer show
Dying but the bravado is mind over matter yo
Sights on a better goal my hands losing feather
Restless, feeling rather defenceless
Protest music but I jumble on my tenses like
Mama Kuti with the Egba women depth...
Didn't matter when the soldiers came to throw her to her death

And that's the truth
Pieces of a puzzle that were here before us
Left us in a state of being grey not knowing where to turn or where to face
But we had leaders in the terms of
Men who
Arose from the grave
Shed away their past lives to stand for the truth and the people and the ones we believe in
The truth is what we stand for