Two Little Boys - The Last Poets

Have you seen the skinny little boy

That chases the white ghost at night?

Face puffed up

Tracks in his arm and his mind blown

His momma somewhere drinking

And talking about survival

Pop’s in jail or downtown in the Y

The little boy chases the white ghost with his friend

And they get high

And they get high

Like cloud nine

Where everything is fine and

(No responsibility)

Have you seen the two little boys running past you

With a lady’s purse?

They stole a black woman’s purse

The other day

Yesterday, today, tomorrow

Face puffed up

Tracks in their arms

Eyes popping out of their skulls

And their minds blown

And they get high

And they get high

Talking about tripping, talking bout flying

Talking bout getting high (getting high)

Have you seen two little boys sitting in Sylvia’s

Stuffing chicken and cornbread down their tasteless mouths?

Trying to revive a dying heart

Shrinking lungs and wasted minds

Have you seen the sickness of our people?

And all the while we parade around

In robes of our ancestors

And wisdoms of the universe

And all the while there are children dying

Chasing the white ghost

Whitey is dying and his fucking ghost is killing us

Oh beautiful black hands

Reach out and snatch the

Death out of the youth of our nation

Oh beautiful black minds

Create, create the world for children to play with life

And not with death

Oh beautiful black brothers and sisters

Come together and create life

Come together and create love

Come together and create, create

Come together and create, create