1. |
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Black faces in black spaces, in the dailies they reflect no light.
French money man is begging her to show their eyes.
Black faces in black spaces, on the daily, darkness whisperers.
French money asking: “Ou sont les yeux?"
She ain't trying to be that girl.
Don't walk her on with “Glory".
She ain't trying to save the world.
It’s enough to tell a story.
Black faces in white spaces, collect art with your aunt and absorb the light.
Black faces in white spaces, daddy’s little spies.
Black panic, white panic, confessor black, tesseract, daddy’s little girl
Hop from planet to planet, she gonna save the world.
Money talks, so you keep talking.
You still broke but you keep talking.
It’s your masterstroke that you keep talking.
Cuz they think they woke but they sleepwalking.
A black girl is gonna save the world.
Black faces in black spaces
It's a jail, it’s a cell
It's the road to Hell
Paved with good intentions
It’s the hull of a ship
It’s a footstep, it’s a bridge
Will you sink, can you swim
Whozit Whaztit and Which
Fight a might, make a right
Paint with celluloid and light
It’s the promise of life
It's the promise of life
She was raised on the promises of life
It’s the promise of life
In your heart, in your heart
It’s the waters of a march.
Keep on tryin to tell our story
Wild nights are your glory.
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2. |
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PART ONE: "Rules and Thangs"
They don’t want: “It’s like...”
No similes. No metaphors.
They want the thang, baby.
They don’t want: “I remember....”
Memory’s just personal fiction.
They want the thang, baby.
These are the rules of engagement.
They don’t want: “Tell me why... I wanna know...”
They did not come to you for questions.
This ain't Jeopardy, baby.
They don’t want: “I feel...”
No one gives a damn about the way you feel.
Everybody's feeling feelings all the time!
It's the All-American Crisis of Empathy™.
Everybody be like: “But what about me?”
These are the rules of engagement.
They want the thang.
Give 'em the thang.
For the poetry and prose of it
You can't get too close to it.
For the path of real resistance
When you find gold, keep your distance.
PART TWO: "The Center Cannot Hold"
Another night, I'm all alone.
Just documentaries and chill.
And I recall how in old photographs
She stood so very still.
Malibu cool.
Arms akimbo.
Han Solo patio.
California limbo.
But now she’s moving y'all.
She is moving!
She's like a prizefighter
Swinging at the carriage of a
Typewriter.
Swinging an arm with every syllable
As if her words ain't enough.
She be swinging them delicate arms
Like the conversation has come to fisticuffs.
Uppercuts in uppercase
And italics and a giant font
And boldface
And I'm feeling like I'm on the benzadrine
Cuz her arms be reaching at me through the screen.
And I wanna know what it all means.
And I wanna know what it all means.
I try to take her hand; she takes a swing at me.
And I am down; and then she sings to me
Words of wisdom while standing over me.
Like a prayer. Like the rosary.
Standing over me, she is scolding me,
With no effs left to give
She be sayin it like this here, y’all:
“We tell ourselves stories in order to live.”
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3. |
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"Les enfants qui applaudissent sur l'un ne vont pas au paradis."
This is not a pipe
This is not a pipe
This is not a right
This is not a pipe
This is not right
This is not wrong
This is not a pipe
This is not a song
"This is weird."
This is not a pipe
This is not crack
This is not white
This is not black
This ain't yo ass
This ain't yo face
This is not about class
This is not about race
"Why is it always about race with you people?"
Because it is.
Now try these shoes on.
Big feet.
This ain't no Mardi Gras
Or San Francisco
This ain't no party, y'all
This ain't no disco
This ain't jazz
This ain't the blues
This ain't the network
This ain't the news
"And the moon turns to blood."
This ain't no painting
Ain't no Matisse
Ain't no Picasso
Ain't no Magritte
This is the treachery.
Of images.
Of ideas.
Of sound.
This is the treachery
Of humanity.
Of democracy.
Of mediocrity.
This is the treachery.
Of images.
Of ideas.
Of sound.
Of song.
Of harmony.
Of the P-bass.
Of this phat beat.
Of the guitar.
Of the One.
Of the One.
Of the One.
La la la la la la la la la.
"Don't you dare clap on the one."
"The One is not for clapping, the One is where yo' ass goes."
"Stop clapping on the One! Don't make me stop this song."
La la la la la la la la la.
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4. |
The Curse of Ham
04:32
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E
And Noah began to be a husbandman
And he planted a vineyard:
And he drank the wine
And he was drunken;
And uncovered
And Ham
Father of Canaan
Saw the nakedness
of his father
And he told his brothers about it
And the brothers, they took a garment
And laid it upon their shoulders
And covered the nakedness of Noah
And Noah awoke from his wine
And Noah knew what Ham had done
And he said:
"Cursed be Canaan
Servant of servants
Unto his brethren."
"Blessed be the Lord God of Shem
And Canaan shall be his servant.
Blessed be the Lord God of Japheth
And Canaan shall be his servant.
Canaan, servant of servants."
And God blessed Noah and his sons.
And He said unto them:
"Be fruitful and multiply and replenish the Earth.:
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5. |
Make Me Blacker
03:44
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Lord, make me bigger
Where I need to be bigger.
Make my hair bigger.
Make my lips bigger.
Make my behind bigger.
Some days
I must be everything
I must be everything
All things to everyone.
Lord, make me blacker
When I need to be blacker.
My my hair blacker.
Make my lips blacker.
Make my behind blacker.
Some days
I must be everything
I must be everything
All things to everyone.
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6. |
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Double feature drive in and
Drive by and Superfly
Footie pajama epiphany
Rueben has Cleo and
Mommy has kilos
But who is this brotha with Tiffany?
You know his bear hug
But in our house he was doodlebug
Doodle brings money to Mommy's top poppy shop
But doodle wants off the plantation
Doodle tells Mommy the poppy crop has got to stop
He wants out of this blaxploitation
You know his bear hug
But in our house he was doodlebug
You know his bear hug
But in our house he was doodlebug
So mommy squashed the doodlebug.
Squashed his boys pickle and fireplug.
But the good lord let tiffany get away.
Do not mourn doodle.
Murning is futile.
The brotha rose again.
Check the database.
Finesse
Vaness
Pops Hennessy
Mr. Henri
Shoop Summers
Smitty Rollins
Bellamey
Lightfoot Legraaaand
Mr. Zhaaaaaang
Flyguy
One-Eye
'Fast' Freddie Tibbs
Marshall Gripps
Jimmy Lipps
Bobby Chiclets
Sweet Tooth
Old School
Sweetstick
DOODLEBUG SIMKINS
Bill Boudreaux
Colonel Devraux
Otis Jones
Leonard Jones
Tobias Jones
Father Riley
Jeffrey Knight
Bernstein Chandler
CHANDLER BERNSTEIN
Quickfellow
Buffalo
Jerry Blackmore (Mo Black)
Paco Paco
El Gato Negro
And Lindy! Lindy!
Y'all act like you forgot about Lindy!
Lindy, Lindy! Don't forget:
"Honey: I am more man than you'll ever be
And more woman than you'll ever get."
Black do not crack though the brotha is older.
Make art as we stand on their shoulders.
It's all love for Doodlebug.
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7. |
Stank Lazarus
04:37
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We got to make a party out of this funeral
Cuz sooner than you know we will all be departing
Don't you want to be up in that numeral
Second line, saints go marching
We are dying.
The sun, one day, will refuse to shine.
The rivers, soon, will run with blood.
But balloons and dancing shoes, so get in line.
Fall in y'all for one last big fun.
We are dying.
We are dying, too.
It's aparty funeral
Trip the light fantastic
It's a party funeral
So get up out that casket
Martha moanin, Mary weeps
Selfish layin down acting like you sleep
I got the black and she got the blues
It's time for you to put on yo dancin shoes
Get out that box and move to the funk
Stink up the joint like Lazarus.
Like Lazarus. Lazurus.
Stinking up the joint like Lazarus.
Stand up!
This is on you, baby.
Don't get too comfortable.
This is on you, baby.
You gotta get up.
Is heaven getting good to you?
Or is it hell?
Does the heat feel good to you?
Well you gotta get up.
Don't leave me at this part all alone, baby.
You gotta get up.
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8. |
Master Teacher
05:17
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A beautiful world I'm trying to find
I am known to stay awake
A beautiful world iI'm trying to find
I've been in search of myself
It's just too hard for me to find
Said it's just too hard for me to find
I am in the search of something new
Searchin' me
Searching inside of you
And thats fo' real
What if it were no n****s
Only master teachers?
I stay woke
Even if yo baby ain't got no money
To support ya baby, you
Even when the preacher tell you some lies
And cheatin on ya mama, you stay woke
Even though you go through struggle and strife
To keep a healthy life, I stay woke
Everybody knows a black or a white
there's creatures in every shape and size
Everybody
(I stay woke)
Everybody, stay
(I stay woke)
Get everybody
(I stay woke)
Everybody body baby
A beautiful world I'm trying to find
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9. |
Battle Royal
02:17
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10. |
We Wear the Mask
05:10
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We wear the mask that grins and lies,
It hides our cheeks and shades our eyes,—
This debt we pay to human guile;
With torn and bleeding hearts we smile,
And mouth with myriad subtleties.
Why should the world be over-wise,
In counting all our tears and sighs?
Nay, let them only see us, while
We wear the mask.
We smile, but, O great Christ, our cries
To thee from tortured souls arise.
We sing, but oh the clay is vile
Beneath our feet, and long the mile;
But let the world dream otherwise,
We wear the mask!
When the wing is bruised and the bosom sore,
We beat the bars to get some free;
It is not a carol of joy or glee,
But a prayer from the heart’s deep core.
It's a prayer from the heart's deep core
It's a prayer from the heart's deep core
It's a prayer from the heart's deep core
It's a prayer from the heart's deep core
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Buggy Jive Albany, New York
BUGGY JIVE is a soul rock singer-songwriter quietly uploading music from a basement somewhere in Upstate New
York.
Equal parts Zeppelin and D’Angelo and Prince and Joni in sound and sensibility, his lyrics often mine the literature of the past to make sense of the present – from Ellison to Morrison to Eliot to Didion.
“Literary Kravitz,” as some say.
... more
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