African Dreams

By Talib Kweli

We stand over the Atlantic, looking broad like a man’s shoulders
The fire is trapped in a belly, ready to pop like canned soda
We outlasting, from middle passage
Touched down in New York
Cincinnatay! Big Ohio status what you thought
Money it’s classic these bastards try to treat us like cattle
So life has been a constant battle, battle
Rising above the crabs in the barrel
Way too used to living in death’s shadow
We stay on point like the best arrow, arrow
We hit the target accurate
Star sh*t, back it up
When we hit town, y’all ni**as pack it up
That’s how we get down, straight smash it up
Like a whip, hydroplaning
Hydro on the brain and maintaining
Game changing into subtle sh*t, we remain blatant
Yo, got to tell you to your face
You get replaced in this game, by Kweli
Place the face with the name
These cats drink champagne and toast to death and pain
Like slaves on a ship talking about who got the flyest chain

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~ by B Majnun on November 3, 2007.

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