Hoodies high, ranks closed
The homies march with pants slung low.
Comrades shot by the white hispanics
march in spirit with us in our ranks.
The street free for the brown battalions,
The street free for the grievance lords.
Millions, full of dope, look up at the skittles;
The day breaks for freedom and for skittles.
For the last time the lean will now be drunk;
For the struggle now we all stand ready.
Soon will fly Trayvon-flags over every street;
Old School will last only a short time longer.
Hoodies high, ranks closed,
The homies march with pants slung low.
Comrades shot by the white hispanics
march in spirit with us in our ranks.
Sung to the tune of a catchy German number from the 30’s.
Almost brings a tear to my eye.....
That’s what I’m talkin’ about!
But shouldn’t it (boom chucka boom chuckkkkka boom) be “said” (not “sung”) to a rap beat? (or hophip or pantsonnaground or whatever it’s called these days?)
Preferably something with a good does of gangsta mixed in...
The only reason that I didn’t spit coffee all over my monitor was because I’ve learned my lesson; I now take my coffee through the drinking tube of an M17 gas mask.