It's morning in America, madam. Do you want more?
Good morning America, how about some hardcore?
Feminism's circumcision persists in hip-hop
Lil' Kim convicted of perjury, refused to talk shop
The sentence? One year and one day in jail,
The Shawshank? Platinum album sales.
Martha Stewart leaves the pen for her new reality show;
Being Bobby Brown redefines the phrase 'video hoe'.
It's His Prerogative! He coons when we want a coon.
It's Her Prerogative! Crack's whack but makes Whitney swoon.
Kaboom! Justice O'Connor ignites ideological schism,
Luther Vandross passed, R. Kelly recycles rhythm.
Just don't ask Terry McMillan about her next book deposit
Since everyone knows who Stella "Trapped in the Closet".
A million questions for this world, the truth you decide
Why does an Bob Dole need a Viagra sex drive?
Why does America cry when a White woman hides?
When did we go from Fab 5 Freddy to the Fab 5?
Since I don't wear pink, I ask clarification,
But I'm not a diamond in the rough, this isn't Late Registration.
No backpack rap singles, no Jacob the Jeweler exultation,
No conflict bling, no shallow sanctification.
Today we endure post-colonial phantom menace
Not Industrial Light and Magic's post-pubescent apprentice
Not a psychotic padawan with the bluest blue eyes
Just the irrepressible hate no Yoda can exorcise
But we don't stand up, protest, or even change the lies
We choose indifference, export freedom fries.
Disenfranchise billions and billions so profit margins rise.
Ronald's the best genocide your money can buy.
But globalization's feedback loop imports terror
The casualties of London make al-Qaida that much scarier.
No prior warning, no reservations for the innocent
No negotiations with illogical heretics hell-bent
On Western decimation. The clash of civilizations
Is mutually assured destruction, posthaste eradication.
Thirty-seven people reduced to ash and cinder cadavers.
Human sardines trapped in subterranean caverns,
Waiting to die. There's only fear and loathing in the West
We defend Vicki Vicodin from Cruise knows best.
Why be depressed, Brooke? So many luscious pills...
Voluptuous volumes of soma, negligible ills...
And what of the children? The walking dead
Apathetic, disaffected, The Massacre in their heads
Four million albums sold to America's future
Murder, misogyny, all in good humor -
But not really. For to be 50 Cent
Is to assassinate your fellow Blackman to pay rent.
Sniper sellout, uber-thug Thomas Sowell
Chromium melanin automaton like Colin Powell.
Marketing the unbearable lightness of blackface
To all those John McWhorter knows aren't Losing the Race
The mainstream forgets itself in the minority minstrel;
White men never miss Dave Chappelle on Comedy Central.
So send La Amistad to Durban
Disguise that brother in a turban
And tell Kunta "Season 3! Before the Christmas tinsel."