Black Woman rage makes us take to the stages
Up front at rallies
Leading black families
Black woman rage is a thing of beauty
Doing our duty,
making our roles
Suffering in silence, giving the bad eye
Calling on God,
dealing with spirits
Jah-Jah takes voer as riddims move hips
Cusses come from full brown female lips
Black woman rage is a sight to behold
Working the fields
suns beat on bent backs
Black songs rise with density of deep sound
Deep pasts seep to all who have the ear --
Can you understand the meaning
of Rage...Black...Woman...Song?
Sad, true, throaty, tired
As we stretche to the heights of creation
Leggo our hand in the offending face
Stay in our place? What place?
When we just be all over...
Never removed as we feed the masses
with milk, poems and minds
Full breasts and asses
Queen Nzinga looks on
as we swing our axes
through the forests of fearsome shadows
that mean us no good
We learn to run from home-grown licks
Give 2 snaps up
and stand akimbo
as only Raging Black Woman could.
We beat the drums to call on the sisters
to pass on the secrets that only mothers know.
two hundred and forty days of
two heart-beats, two sighs,
two souls, two-fold life-form multiply
with the powers of Yin and Yang
One moment kisses to heal the sting of her strong hand
Raging, Woman Black --
back to the basics of the Motherland...
Speak your story, speak
sister songs
and weep if you will
at the rage that kept us frozen, still
under humping weights
that pinned us in darken places
Rage that kept us from killing our rapists
In order to maintain we paralyzed ourselves instead
They left us for dead
That thought we were
But we don't die,
grow, laugh, spread, cry
Daughters of the cotton and cane
cannot wither and die.

hen I was young I used to wonder what I'd do with my life:

How many babies would I mother?

Would I be someone's wife?

My mental vision always seemed to be including a mic

I didn't know that I'd be married to these tunes that I write

See in this thing you're in it from your start to your finish

Inspired by higher powers and my

poetic visuals

Words become material

my life's the subject

Erupting so I can build my own republic

I was twleve when I designed my manifesto

Came in a dream

from that night, there's been no rest, yo

I confess:

I had to grow the heart of a lioness

Progess like a vet while I'm applying it

I didn't choose to MC

I got assigned

Been seeded with a gene that has me fiending to rhyme

Hopping trains, planes and buses to take me on my next trip

Next time...the Mothership