Hey you might wax lyrical about purple drank.
Yeah, the poor little pickaninny. (I hope I spelled that right. My spell checker wants to use picnicking.) Now nobody but the devil was hoping he’d get himself into trouble — certainly George Zimmerman didn’t — but get himself into trouble he did. The excess of dextromethorphan, then a goodly toke of mary jane. And through those altered eyes, our little angel sees some suspicious questions about what the heck he is up to, as some scheme to track him down and kill him, and it seems half of black America is ready to say “Amen bro” to that notion. And still, George didn’t physically do or even threaten squat to him until starting to get his head beaten on the sidewalk.
OK, now we return to our same-ole-same-ole.
Yep, you got it right:
Way down in Missouri where I heard this melody,
When I was a Pickaninny on ma Mammy’s knee;