Akua Naru, Blitz The Ambassador - The Wound lyrics
[Akua Naru, Blitz The Ambassador - The Wound lyrics]
(Oh) oh, yes
Yo, I rose from the womb with a poem
These words the first fruit of the zone
No question who, 'Ku from the Jones, uh
Withdrew to Rome, the inner laws
Found myself in Cologne, the
Journey ain't no mystery, uh
Witness the magic
The marriage of flow physically
Walk the globe plottin' to
Overthrow white supremacy
Fast-forward centuries
Daughter of modern history
My wounds braided in the
Paint of antebellum misery
Separated the first slave
From mothers' memory
Centuries pass, I flash back
It still cripples me, uh
Spins the vicinity time pass
Spit from this wine glass to
Tell my story vividly
Rhythm swing, the blues, Bo Diddley
Narrative like Sophia, picture it, Sicily
Battle imagery, fictions that TV writes
Another industry ready to bitch, ho, nigga me
Riot in the verse, my soul hurts
It's killin' me
Bloodstain the page, my pen rage the penalty
Another lynchin'
Seen the new cover of Jet Magazine, '08
Celebrated victories
Now race play's invisible
Institutional change cleaned from
The periphery
Agenda unchallenged by so-called
Black Kennedy
I don't ask much, but when evolution comes
Y'all remember me (yeah) Remember me
Ambassador, Akua Naru, check, uh
How you listen to the radio
Claim hip hop is dead?
How you boycott Kress, drink Henny instead?
Why can't fit it in the club
When the DJ said he rockin'
Drizzy in the club?
How you sellin' CDs and call it a mix tape?
Why we still buy the source?
Of course the shit's fake in each song
How you talk about conflict diamonds for
The Jesus peace on us?
Like, sisters love the record
Especially when it's dissin' 'em
Driftin' in further than Public Enemy
Thirteen years, still no Pac or Big killers
Record labels still reapin' 'em like
They still with us
How the hell did dumbin' it down become cool?
Ten dudes on the stage
We can barely hear you
And you all sold crack
But got a time to write
Yo, I'm so pure black
Most of my fans are white
Heal our wounds, y'all
We need some healin', yeah
What it is, ha, what it is
Heal our wounds, y'all
Yo, I rose from the womb with a poem
These words the first fruit of the zone
No question who, 'Ku from the Jones, uh
Withdrew to Rome, the inner laws
Found myself in Cologne, the
Journey ain't no mystery, uh
Witness the magic
The marriage of flow physically
Walk the globe plottin' to
Overthrow white supremacy
Fast-forward centuries
Daughter of modern history
My wounds braided in the
Paint of antebellum misery
Separated the first slave
From mothers' memory
Centuries pass, I flash back
It still cripples me, uh
Spins the vicinity time pass
Spit from this wine glass to
Tell my story vividly
Rhythm swing, the blues, Bo Diddley
Narrative like Sophia, picture it, Sicily
Battle imagery, fictions that TV writes
Another industry ready to bitch, ho, nigga me
Riot in the verse, my soul hurts
It's killin' me
Bloodstain the page, my pen rage the penalty
Another lynchin'
Seen the new cover of Jet Magazine, '08
Celebrated victories
Now race play's invisible
Institutional change cleaned from
The periphery
Agenda unchallenged by so-called
Black Kennedy
I don't ask much, but when evolution comes
Y'all remember me (yeah) Remember me
Ambassador, Akua Naru, check, uh
How you listen to the radio
Claim hip hop is dead?
How you boycott Kress, drink Henny instead?
Why can't fit it in the club
When the DJ said he rockin'
Drizzy in the club?
How you sellin' CDs and call it a mix tape?
Why we still buy the source?
Of course the shit's fake in each song
How you talk about conflict diamonds for
The Jesus peace on us?
Like, sisters love the record
Especially when it's dissin' 'em
Driftin' in further than Public Enemy
Thirteen years, still no Pac or Big killers
Record labels still reapin' 'em like
They still with us
How the hell did dumbin' it down become cool?
Ten dudes on the stage
We can barely hear you
And you all sold crack
But got a time to write
Yo, I'm so pure black
Most of my fans are white
Heal our wounds, y'all
We need some healin', yeah
What it is, ha, what it is
Heal our wounds, y'all