Songs for Mulattoes #4

Yeah, Afropean shit
Black and British, mixed heritage, mixed cultures
We aint half of nuttin' Something else

Twilight in Firenze, the Uffizi on the balcony
She fly on my arm like this nigga doing falconry
Imaginary or memory, active or sedentary
My mind flips the script like Argento in the 70s
Midnight in the bits, I'm driving slow in a Zip car
She lulls in the passenger, looking like the shit, Pa
Memory, imaginary, comedy or tragedy
My mind creates it all, yeah, I'm active with the blasphemy
Blasphemy is self-defense when the gods are crazy
When you're made within their image. Self-loathing is a daily
Jay told me, 'Keep it moving, fuck you and pay me'
But my spirit said there's something more
So I've been on the daily hunt
To get my mind right, cup full, and my soul soothed
I think we need to look inside and give advice to those youts
Mingus had score paper; Neptunes got pro tools
Stevie did it in his head, so fuck your tech, that's no proof
Use what you got to tell your story so they know who
You are and who you ain't and the transition that you go through
Find your community, invest and watch them grow too
Ain't no one self-made; connection's the whole truth
Dialect's important. Speak that pigeon proudly
Hate that I sold mine for a couple coins and a cowrie
Notes to my present self, my future, and my foundry
Know that race and time are constructs
I'm just trying to break the boundary

***** or ***** The first rhyme I ever wrote
'Bout my grandaddies, both great men in air quotes
They left this world and I never really knew em
But every year I grew more baggage i'd accrue and
The sending address was always one or the other
Sent via parents down to me and my brother
Then I met my sis and she had her own pile
Different packaging but still long like Nile
See inside I was Kofi tryna mediate a war
My heritage a puzzle seemed impossible and flawed
I coded switched to cope and I felt like a fraud
But I could not be one; I was two; I was more
I was just a bud on a branch on a tree
My roots broke and gnarled and the soil felt diseased
Stunted my growth and that time felt deceased
But love gave me life, gave me strength, I was free
Now I'm Freddie Washington, living all my light and shadow
Trying to disconnect from the caste of sad mulatto
I'm Charlie on the bass while I lead a band of eight
Playing through the changes that link love and hate
I'm Bob on the stage, shaking hands with the devils
Jah Jah sending lightning bolts to show them that we rebel
I'm Emma and Nicole, sorting through the truth and lies
They create a space, where we nah afi apologise
I'm Johny and his camera, finding beauty in these pits
I'm Angela, I'm Huey P Newton out this bitch
A hundred 'cent black man, a hundred 'cent mixed
Ain't a melanin-air, but I'm mela hood rich!