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We deal in too many externals, brother. |
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Always afros, handshakes, and dashikis. |
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Never can a man build a working structure for black capitalism. |
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Always does the man read Mao or Fanon. |
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I think I know you would-be black revolutionaries too well. |
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Standing on a box on a corner, talking about blowing the white boy away. |
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That's not where it's at, yet, brother. |
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Calling this man an Uncle Tom, |
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And telling this woman to get an afro, |
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But you won't speak to her if she looks like hell, will you, brother? |
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Some of us been checking you act out kinda closely. |
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And by now it's looking kinda shaky, the way you been rushing people with your super-black bag. |
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Jumping down on some black men with both feet because they are after their B.A. |
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But you're never around when your B.A. is in danger. |
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I mean your black ASS. |
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I think it was a little too easy for you to forget that you were a negro before Malcolm. |
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You drove your white girl through the village every Friday night, |
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While the grass roots stared in envy and drank wine. |
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Do you remember? |
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You need get your memory banks organized, brother. |
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Show that man you call an Uncle Tom just where he is wrong. |
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Show that woman that you are a sincere black man. |
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All we need to do is see you SHUT UP AND BE BLACK. |
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Help that woman. |
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Help that man. |
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That's what brothers are for, brother. |
