We. Are. The. Lynch. Mob.
Painted by the blight of these bloody streets
Marching tirelessy on calloused feet
Vibrating, earthquaking, into the
blind, deaf White House of the elite.
Murdered, Raped, ripped from their domes
We’re bout to take it home now
And let it swing in your mind
And shaking with the grip
Of the reality that you are blind
Choked with the ignorance of your mind
And pass out-from the stench of it
As you get mesmerized and sleepy
Check into Dr. kings dream
May you too have it, grab it!
As we wake you may we take you
To levels of mental freedom
Elevated, refreshed like the blue lagoon
May the drums of freedom shake you
May the songs of freed men quake you
And loose your noose off your neck
As you take a deep first breath
And stand on stand on Gods’
In the cold breeze of slavery mentality
But standing in the bravery of liberty
‘Free at last! Free at last!’
A voice of hope echoes from the past
We acknowledge by Gods hand
We are victorious over the
oppressive knee that choked.
Spit hatred out like globs
Throw it up! Flush it like feces
from our history’s releases!
Who keep recycling the trash
What they do not understand
Its time out for withholding reprimand
And display it high for all to see
We are tired of the hypocrisy!
We. Are. The. Lynch. Mob.