My Public Service Announcment
Listen
to this poem!
By Rafael Casal
A million martyrs marchin to the same beat
sagged jeans, major league team jersey, pearly white
shoes, loose cap cell phone flap open mobile chattin
silver chain big ballin air bubble in ya jordan kicks
back sit back sagg relax
and advertise for the big business that’s ready
capitalize you
They define your coolness
Cool be them already rulin the cool
In ya they foolin the cool kiddin
The kid in you knew how to get through to you was
robbin ya inner cool
then sellin it back to you
Me, a million martyrs march to the same beat
like perfect symmetry this infinite peak is conforming
you, me
some of us even pay 200 hundred dollars for some motha
f*ckin shoes, please!
f*ck if its jordan subordinate, order galore, and
conforming, its war and a warning is screaming ya name
but we all sit avoiding the call I mean cummon!
there right this is a phat farm and we are the cattle
catastrophic I know it’s appalling the way they cause
your conscious cause of thought to collapse and
conform to their law of what’s cool hip fresh steed
everybody needs and must buy now it’s all a tactic
they dress themselves so damn fyne and attractive
so you walk right up to the shorty and be like "can I
get your seven digit address"
and she replies, "I’ll do you one better boy ill let
you tap it"
so we like "word, what’s the catch?"
then she whispers "not much, this is all you need to
do to have it"
you got to brand it and lavish and ravage your own
image after we hoe ya and handle your own every dollar
til everyone marches to the same beat
billin and benden ya backwards a mass of words and
wants and needs
we feed it
be just like a beat that don’t knock, but your steady
bobbin your head, hella repetitively even though you’re
NOT even feelin the rhythm but, you nod steadily cuz
everybody just, be with ya fakin like they be feelin
the rhythm but really not
and I’m on the dance floor non stop
Through their hollow temptation my position
has been relocated to an
awkward rotation due to the susceptibility of my mental
incarceration
sacrificing my keen understanding of who I was
from birth I ran concentric circles around forbidden
language
therefore constilating on the premise of my birthplace
in the harbor of the tongue.
but I’m so strung out on phat farm that I forgot where
I’m from
It’s all a tactic
meddling ever so delicately yet definitely all up in
our interior it is invisible in the peripheral vision
until it is RIGHT HERE!
From BET to MTV we got PYTs marketing sex appeal the
all mighty breast appeal
It sells yes but reflects poorly on the women ya feel
Got us thinking woman? Oh you mean wo-man here to woo
the man from the man to the man just to do the man lie
down dick ride and screw the man please she f*ckin
rules the man this is just the plan they planted
embedded empowering them through the image in women
and men til corporate America owns my dick, they tell
it where to be what to do and how high to go so
frequently that I don’t own it anymore I feel lied to
We move to their currents like a tide pool
A million martyrs marching to the same beat
What an eye full
I’ll tell em what they need, n make buying a habit
therefore maximizing my efficiency to officiently
consume wealth in full bloom and profit off of their
materialism, throw erotic women in it, make em think
bein fitted is stimulant, I dunno whatever the
necessary arrangement I’ll raise up all the wages and
manipulate them to pay it
and from that came our enslavement
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