We muttered the words s u g a r h i l l until they made a praise chant
What are we celebrating?
Slaves still in the swamp harvesting cane today Big Daddy Kane's bling is hollow and wade in the water is still a relevant lament. More slaves died for sugar than niggas die for one another more slaves went under for sugar than for cotton, you could pray over the cotton and program it safe but the sugar water alone much less full of shit and blood and moaners
Safety is a pathetic notion to a black body the same boy who was rapping about roaches invading his generic cereal boxes in the projects last week, is in Soho this week claiming he's never tasted the slaves who tasted the sugar they made of him even as they whisper mercies across his burden
I am shrinking a heap of cherries so shiny and ruby they reflect me , glimmer when I blink a sudden puppy steals the seeds and crams them into the grass desperately more will grow there and reflect that teaming how our black genome is hilariously impossible to defeat but every time you crave a taste of that white powder picked in a field you can't see by a nigga you can't save on an island you believe is a resort every time you pretend cake is a casual delicacy and smear that blood into parties I wish you the deepest enlightenment Yoruba you rub off sweetawfulblues