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3 ContributorsGuilty of Being... Wait LyricsI've skinned myself alive skinning myself a life. All that can be seen may as well be all of me. Hanging like strange fruit from a tree is the option to praise, or degrade. The auction block is the every day, as dissimilar to my reality as my double consciousness, constant vigilance, repeated reminders of my appearance. Triple consciousness, constant vigilance, self-hate and paranoia, my ~*black experience*~

2 ContributorsCreated In H.I.S. Image LyricsIn the reoccurring nightmare of yr leaden stride, you'd skinned yrself in line in yr real life. You passed off to my cousin what you hoped to resign, the doubt, dread, and mistrust you'd been assigned. It's just a waste of pain, to only live inside the limitations of a name. We all seek the privilege of privileged nonexistence, to fit into a mitten made of television, but I cannot speak to you. I fear yr fear, I fear yr fucking gun. I'm yr manslaughter, forced in a satchel. I'm yr enemy, also yr army. I was given meat, and I could feed for a week. But give a nigga a brick and the whole neighborhood can eat. And if you always check to see if yr the man of these streets, you miss the opportunities to see yrself in me. I lose the time to understand a hell I don't know, the failure to escape one of this white world's forms of mind control. And I silently sadly think of the impossible seeming unity of allies who look like me

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2 ContributorsPut Yr Head Down LyricsLives occur in between moments told to shut the fuck up. Killers are so easily made in moments of crestfallen shade. Life is to shut the fuck up and let the noise get made by the gun

2 ContributorsSon of a Gun LyricsYou are a dollar made to spend on war, an unwritten police report reappearing sporadically, only seldomly not seen as bullet holes in a car side door. Calling all customers of consumer culture. 3-D printers can make orange AK-47 parts. Show the world to their seats next to the Dear God, Our Father Whom Art In Heaven. Yrs is the face of the hate with which I'm obsessed, blood of my blood, flesh of my flesh; the dismantled connection to a sense of self which I suppress. So sell that shit hood rich. You only sell or get sold to. You only sell or get told to

2 ContributorsBut Fucking Why? LyricsWeakness is blood thirst, yr blood in my eyes blinds. Blindness is a moment of weakness in which I lash out at controls placed over my life, which I see in those whom I despise. But fucking why? Macho manifestation. Macho man infestation. I create the environments I seek to destroy, but fucking why? My anger separates me from the freedom I seek to enjoy, but fucking why?