The Birth They say wisdom, is the wise words spoken By a brother attemptin to open The graves, of these mentally dead slaves Whove been lost on a cross, for decades And centuries, lookin for the liberty But receive nothin, but misery And hard times, and things of that nature By the devil in a genocide caper Little Boy Peep, has lost his sheep But I found them, in a deep long sleep Nine thousand miles away from home Livin the life of a modern day Flintstone We the people, supposed to be equal But the men who wrote that, they was evil Slave owners, who did not include us They just used us, and abused us
Posted on: Fri, 08 Aug 2014 19:45:54 +0000
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