Haunted Ocean - Curly Castro, Lauren Kelly Benson, Cavalier

Ezekiel Rawlings

Devil inna Blue calling

Segregate, colored only

Call on Mouse if you have a problem

And now yo ass really drowning

Pimping ain’t ease it’s a mountain

Dealing with anything Half-Back

Enter thru the Back, Bull Conner

Take it to the Head, Selma

Place Dynamite, No Thelma

Just four little girls, dawn at a church

Spike had to fuckin' tell yah?

But a Panther only gets Blacker

And the Night plays a factor

It swallows all the white wrongs

And the Meek kills the Master

So the reckonings a’coming

Word to the ghost, Bobby Hutton

So stand strong, Juan Carlos

Or you free fall for nothing

Pardon, We could take it back Dogon

So gather all of yah photons, for the phone con, and so on

Tough to kill like LoGone

Power to the P. Malcolm

Boogie Down like the South Bronx with a Falcon

On my gun arm!

Would you send your kids

To our kids' school?

Is Trump about to win

This stage of fools?

Do Black Lives really matter

Or do they don’t?

Dirty blood, curly hair

Like my President

Is it true East New York’s

Coming up and hot?

Can you touch my Afro?

(Ha!)

You may not

Polluting my Earth, my food

Mind and more

Healing foremother’s wounds

Your forefather’s whores

Waltz with the invisible man

The elephant in the room

I need me a sensible plan

They trynna sentence me to doom

If it had not been for the lord

I woulda had a not a now nada

Nat Turner on a quiet night

From the back burner or the pilot light

Cause of one drop of this Black blood

You know the hood different now

Seen White girls coming out the chicken spot lookin thick

Or was it one drop of this Black nut?

That got them open season on my progeny

For the fear White ovaries might meet

The Nightmares of an overseer or a housewife of an officer

They like «Why you go there so often?»

«Pardon, can’t cloak this awful truth

Dispute even our ocean’s haunted»

So to call me going overboard

Thats old news sung from my sad song

Tongues at the bottom these deep blues

And the cotton in my denim bleeds too

My pain regressive your strain recessive

I’m just trynna be, I’m just minding me

I ain’t trynna be rude

Waltz with the Invisible Man… (x10)