Black Poetry : black history always a whack mystery which involves whips and trips to trees for hangings nothing groovy or cute about the movie roots had to stoop to

[rhymebad]

black history always a whack mystery which involves whips and trips
to trees for hangings nothing groovy or cute about the movie roots
had to stoop to get success finially, like Kunta Kinte just to live another day

 

[rhymebad]

Heard a boss beat and walked across the street
founded out it was CD yelled turn it up and defeat
quietness, it was a heavy Impala Chevy with dubs
be at every club had SNOOP DOGG switches loves
to bounce up and down the driver sip gin and juice
turned and walked a few paces, you see new faces produce
friends, now home to my door use the cell phone galore
and party on the shore of VIRGINIA BEACH, this is BLACK
HIP HOP, in the right town see a girl in a night gown fact
of the matter is I must rap and trust my map no crack
around so I'm safe, “SO BOO you a brown Soul Sista
and CUPID shoot arrows sweet down a narrow street pistols
not needed, I stand-fast with strands of grass under my feet
girl this is all vapor and like wallpaper it sticks to a fleet
of ships