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Lyrics "Field Negus", Sons Of Kemet, Joshua Idehen

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I am a field negro now Exodusing from these wretched plains Pour holy palm wine, wash away this wasted shame Blood is thicker than cotton or sugar cane I don't think you're ready for the pain I don't think you're ready for the change, mate You are a field negro too, son Leave Candace Owens by the plantation Foolish us, thinking the overseer even had the keys
to these chains How could we expect the dungeon keeper to make the
rules and play fair this game? Oh, bless your greed For not granting me the little I asked of you I would have played the fiddle and tap-danced for
yuo I would have settled for some skittles and a safe
path home Tightened up my belts Lightened-up my skin Bitten down my tongue I begged you for an inch Lemme have some liqour and a flatscreen A minute for my mind, scraps for my sandwich You had me saying Prayers in yuor language You made me forget my gods You had me question my spirits Forsake my prophets and Then you cursed me with Trevor Philips Oh, the pale-faced, cheek of it One knee on my back, one knee on my lungs Telling me to run sprint times on a marathon Keep calm and carry on Oh, the audacity The caucasity of it all Thank you For refusing me that inch Because now I do not recognise your yardstick The scales have toppled The curtains have collapsed The blonde baboon's arse is bare in the open And I am a field negro now I do not want your equality It was never yours to give me And even then it was too minor, too little, too late Pull the balaclava over my heart and set it running My revolution rides a black horse and it is stunning Get me my flowers Shower their petals over my escape route Molotov cocktails as my banner Skull and crossbones as my skin tone Babylon burn down is my jam, mate, it's my ringtone We are rolling your monuments down the street like
tobacco Tossing your effigies into the river, they weren't
even worth a pyre Let me show you what you've taught me about crime Forget a piece, we want the whole pie and the 'Everything Must Go' sign We are all field negroes now, just dead the talk,
get me my bag Maybe one day we'll see eye to eye on fancy
furniture But right now though, right now though, sorry not
sorry, #burnitall Just burn it all.