[Verse 1: B. Rossi]
She done put her reparations in a handbag
He done spent his reparations on his swag, swag
A black nigga, put your fortunes in a sandbag
Laugh at your misfortune then we put it in a hashtag
Ain't no leaders only leisure, only reapers, ain't no sowers
They get higher, we get lower, damn it's over
If racism ain't in color then it's damn sure in the class
Got the races on each other, you got niggas then there's blacks
You got crackers then there's whites, separated by the green
After five hundred years, think we play for the same team
Smokescreen, make the president the black guy
It ain't no reason why you shouldn't have success, right?
[Chorus: B. Rossi]
Forty acres and a Muller
I spent my reparations on the jeweler
I bought a timepiece, now ain't no lookin' back
Now ask them muthafuckas what the fuck they lookin' at
Uh, forty acres and a mule, forty acres and a mule
These niggas actin' fuckin' fools for forty acres and a mule
[Verse 2: Killer Mike]
Anybody interrupt freedom, kill 'em
Word to Robert F. Williams, feel 'em
Devil got me sick to my stomach, boo
Word to Elijah Muhammad, ooh
I don't give a damn what the preacher ever tell y'all
Jesus, Muhammad, ain't comin', woo
I'mma tell y'all what the ancestors shoulda done did when they seen the first boat comin, yeah
Killed every man, child, woman, yeah
Killed every damn thing on it, yeah
Killed everything if it looked European
Send it back to the Queen like, ho
You ever step your foot in Kemet, bitch we slit your throat
We send them funny fuck boy preacher types back to the Pope
Fuck is you? Fuck your Zeus or fuck Medusa
This the school of Shaka Zulu
Fast forward to the future, choppa do you
We done dyin' and they cryin' and we screamin' hallelujah
When them crackas ask why say we did it for Lumumba, fucker
She done put her reparations in a handbag
He done spent his reparations on his swag, swag
A black nigga, put your fortunes in a sandbag
Laugh at your misfortune then we put it in a hashtag
Ain't no leaders only leisure, only reapers, ain't no sowers
They get higher, we get lower, damn it's over
If racism ain't in color then it's damn sure in the class
Got the races on each other, you got niggas then there's blacks
You got crackers then there's whites, separated by the green
After five hundred years, think we play for the same team
Smokescreen, make the president the black guy
It ain't no reason why you shouldn't have success, right?
[Chorus: B. Rossi]
Forty acres and a Muller
I spent my reparations on the jeweler
I bought a timepiece, now ain't no lookin' back
Now ask them muthafuckas what the fuck they lookin' at
Uh, forty acres and a mule, forty acres and a mule
These niggas actin' fuckin' fools for forty acres and a mule
[Verse 2: Killer Mike]
Anybody interrupt freedom, kill 'em
Word to Robert F. Williams, feel 'em
Devil got me sick to my stomach, boo
Word to Elijah Muhammad, ooh
I don't give a damn what the preacher ever tell y'all
Jesus, Muhammad, ain't comin', woo
I'mma tell y'all what the ancestors shoulda done did when they seen the first boat comin, yeah
Killed every man, child, woman, yeah
Killed every damn thing on it, yeah
Killed everything if it looked European
Send it back to the Queen like, ho
You ever step your foot in Kemet, bitch we slit your throat
We send them funny fuck boy preacher types back to the Pope
Fuck is you? Fuck your Zeus or fuck Medusa
This the school of Shaka Zulu
Fast forward to the future, choppa do you
We done dyin' and they cryin' and we screamin' hallelujah
When them crackas ask why say we did it for Lumumba, fucker
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