Armand Hammer — Fanon’s Ghost

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Текст Armand Hammer — Fanon’s Ghost

[Verse 1: billy woods]
I did the dirty work and kindly cut my piece first
Called in sick, still showed up on time, I’m the worst
We don’t even have to argue I’m checked out inert
My lawyer argued I gave the green away like Starburst
Chapter and verse
The Devil quote, better than the pastor at your church
Jungle Fever as you know curses thirst
The bottomless hole
Down bottom you gotta let some things go
You better know
I listen to their stories and hear what wasn’t told
Tap to the side of the nose
Word to the wise
Don’t do nothing with them guys
Refuse the second cuppa like ‘Oh my, look at the time’
Crackling fire to keep his wit dry
Dour in the English countryside
Whip like horse and buggy
Buddy it ain’t no free ride
Paul Kagame fake nice guy
The type White people like
But Negroes like ‘Bredrin it not worth your life’
Hit dog holla but will it bite?
White Supremacist living in squalor but ranting ’bout Kikes on The Internet
He pressed ‘Like’
Don’t worry it’s just a meme
It’s a just a meme
My hands clean

[Chorus]
Say, «Oh, ha»
Say, «Oh, ha»
Say, «Oh, ha»
Say, «Oh, ha»
Say, «Oh, ha»
Say, «Oh, ha»

Say, «Oh, ha»
Say, «Oh, ha»
Say, «Oh, ha»
Say, «Oh, ha»
Say, «Oh, ha»
Say, «Oh, ha»

[Verse 2: E L U C I D]
It was already stolen when I stole it
I’m on the pavement corner waiting for old White men to die
Time served
Private collides
But we can’t fuck our way to liberation
Age of awakening
A mass conscious manipulation
Humanity’s an Anunnaki computer simulation
This virus can’t be contained
All that remains
Mix a couple pints of Lean in the quarantine
God speed
Blood thick
Came from the mud with it
My philosophy, half ‘Come swallow me’
Half recognising the toxic ideology I was born into
All my skin folk ain’t my kin folk
Kicked out the window to my soul
I feel destructive
Dearly my beloved
Self-Immolation
You hear me now
60 Hertz hum
Gears of war
Grind them down
Killing sound
Throw that ass in a circle
Sprinkling Hash with the Purple
One thing is for certain
All Prophets have come and gone
Nothing ever really dies the light only change form
Murder more murder more murder more
Writer of the storm
At war with the mystic
Horn in the distance
They don’t read enough poetry to flow with me
Brethren, Sistren and Gender-Fuck
No weapon formed to hinder us
Freedom not given but deliberately engineered
No mystery hidden
It’s all in the clear
Worse for the wear
Light burst from a flare
Impenetrable black
They scared to say it