I love black folk.
Black look like a revolution.
Look like a family reunion in the park.
Black look like it's a different world.
Black look like a crawfish ball in New Orleans.
Black folk jump around like Martin and
got paintings from JJ in the living room.
It sounds strong.
Look like sacrifice.
It be flowers blooming in the summertime.
Black sound like old songs,
smell like good food.
And it tastes like heart disease.
But it feel like maize at Jazz Fest.
Black sound like something that hurt,
like a hard test.
Black sound like skin, like something dark.
It look like hair.
Yeah, black sound like
rough hair and good hair.
Look like history, sound spiritual.
Black sound like
years, like working, like night.
Black sound like money,
look like Walmart.
Like
corner stores, like cash register singing.
Black sound like 400 years.
Smell like
Oprah.
Impactful like Martin.
Look like Cicely Tyson.
Sing like Nina, got a ass like Serena.
Feel like broken homes in Section 8. Black smell like crack and collard greens.
Sounds
motivational, feels like church.
Look like big Sunday hats and ribbons.
Smile like your mama,
eyes like the sun.
Beautiful child,
oh you're the one.
Fly like your daddy,
make me so happy.
Beautiful child,
oh you're the one.
Sound like big plaid swinging and sneaky uncles.
Look like Tyler Perry making money.
Sound like Hayden, feel frustrating don't it?
Like they don't get it.
Like they won't ever get it, huh?
Like push your personal feelings of racial injustice
so far underneath the carpet,
that you trip over your own family history.
But I love me some black folk.
I love the Hagrees and the rental fees.
The front row seats, the police, the projects,
the mustard greens,
being late,
social security checks,
government assistance,
bougie,
black,
looking good.
Bags of hair,
fake press on nails,
rat tail comb,
stunting gold,
cheen gold teeth,
black men and big feet.
I love me some black folk.
For they are the people that were made
from the darkest parts of the sky.
Smile like your mama,
eyes like the sun.
Beautiful child,
oh you're the one.
Fly like your daddy,
make me so happy.
Yeah.
Black don't crack, I love your skin.
I don't see that from other kin.
It's today, any day.
How you see me and mine doing different things?
Pushing boundaries.
West coast,
east coast, overseas.
What you think?