Treated as delicacies Turned my ancestors into a 20 piece Wearing our dicks around their necks as trophies and accolades Devouring the flesh of my first and only love Cannibalistic sadistic intent of my captors My stomach turned to realization as my skin compared relation to chocolate now (My little chocolate eclair) Nothing satisfies this white man more than he Cutting me down to half of me Spiritually mentally and physically A rusty axe swinging towards my knees Held down by my brother preventing and missing assisting and hitting cleans fuck that (Come on, you gonna feed me or not, hey) The consumption of black flesh coincides with the cultural regurgitation of blackness Aroused by thine unconsensual screams as I'm boiled alive How can I be so delicious to a nation that claims to hate my skin and existence Unless next to the biscuits and dishes they fixed with it I, I see so much with my eyes gouged Cattle personified skin described as animal hide Labeled 'uncivilized' by a civilization participating in cannibal genocide Any takers for negro soup? All of my emotions and memories are molecules from the spotless few, dig Deep down within my soul [?] 3 corks and some isopropyl will get you more than local Magazine covers, playlist shuffles the whole 9 like [?] Stars across the hood in all of your cars Gained all but lost what was taught but applaud by styles as if krav magas The progress bar to deletion of my people's species is near completion I see it motherfucker You gon get there first but will you last? Nigga you fast but you not in (Oh Lord, the [?] is empty, oh Lord, let me get them groceries) Another platinum record about killing niggas again Another viral dance to songs about switches Extensions stepping and drillers scripted For kids to emulate like a trend Aww baby I'm losing focus as I soak down in this culture but How can it be a culture if you don't control it I sink lower down to my shoulders as it boils over Soon I'll just be another meal for my owners to feast As dark meat seems to be the cup of tea for these elites that meet 1 2 3 fuck How can you count the ways Still to this day states remain where it's legal to own slaves Not enough calendars to count the days Sooner or later we'll just be all back on the motherfucking plate After master sharpens his blade And the family gathers around the plate and says grace Your motherfucking cake is baked You're still being eaten alive It's just taking you longer to die I stated my goodbyes before my demise Dig in nigga let's motherfucking eat