IF I COULD BE ST. PATRICK

IF I COULD BE ST. PATRICK

Mar 20

Written By Shakabaka

I could never be St. Patrick.

I'm no green leprechaun.

My hide is all BLACK.

I ain't 200-mile walkin' To an IRISH COAST.

My heart pumps bumpin' beatz.

My fleein' RUNAWAY FEET

Seek an IVORY COAST

From either RAZOR-WIRE gatepostz

Or Black BARE BACK whippin' postz.

I didn't hear God's voice.

It's MOTHER GODDESS's choice

To host this runaway show,

Channelin'' da' guidepost

Of da' Holy Ancestral Ghost.

I could never be St. Patrick.

I didn't board an IRISH SLAVE SHIP.

My BLOOD drips From a "JESUS" SLAVE SHIP.

My WINGz handcuffed clipped

To a STEEL seat--

"sit still!!!" seata

BLUEBIRD.

I heard Patrick was 16.

I'm BLACKbird traffickkk At 19.

!!!kkkOPz!!! Don't Irish Raid,

But kkkATCH and kkkHAINED me

Into a Modern SLAVE.

I was never raised from

Great Britain GRAVY BISCUITz.

I'm slave-traded From POLkkk County

Grandma's FRIED CHICKEN

With Glorious Genez gourmetin'

Deep South CHITTERLINGz.

Now...

Shackled BOOTstringz Lined up at a

FLORIDA D.O.C. Canteen,

And my main source of protein

Is a POOL with SWIMMIN' sardinez

and FLOATIN' pinto beanz.

NO!

I AINT!!

NO!!!

ST. PATRICK!!!!!

His 6 yearz of captivity can't compare

To 18 years of...

LIFE...

in prison?

Still in SLAVERY

Within 406 YEARz

Of Continued

amerikkkan STILL IN SLAVERY.

I work with COTTON Fieldhandz,

Pan bakin' RAT pattiez,

Holdin' out UNPAID HANDz,

Amongst NO-take-a-stand SHEEP.

I ain't got da' white privilege

To Shepherd a flock of Irish SHEEP.

I wish to SHEPHERD Bluez with BOOTED FEET;

Splinter STEEL-- timber In a --BARz land;

Pledge to STAND in Liberty's promise land.

And I promise to land With grace

By da' Grace Of my Spirit SHEPHERD comradez.

Patrick's solace cradled in da' crib

Of christ's CRUCIFIED CROSS.

My solace lies in

CEMETERY Crossroadz

With VODOU VEVEz

Drawn a-CROSS roadz.

Never could I be St. Patrick.

I would never DREAM

Convertin' LOAz into Christianz.

My DREAMz consist of LOAz Divine intervention,

Visitin' my intuition just to mention --

"SPEAK OUT FOR DA' PEOPLE..."

They say St. Patrick prayed

100 timez a day;

100 timez a night.

I pray daily at my Ancestorz' ALTAR.

Offer my Life as da' sacrifice.

Thus, I rejoin da' BOOMbox band

To build a PANTHER POWERful brand

To build a STAND UP band

Of SITDOWN acolytez.

Thus, I fast on many BUNK BED dayz

And MASHED MATTRESS nightz.

Patrick fasted for many SUNupz and MOONshinez.

Still, we're nuthin' alike despite

An ANGEL prophesyin' his homeland return

Like my ANCESTORz prophesyin'

My CREMATED ASHEz

Poured Outta a MOTHERLAND urn.

I could never be St. Patrick.

I could never EVER return

To da' place of my captivity...

Unless, my Ancestorz prepare me

To become a houngan PRIEST

So that I may ROOTwork teach

And then DR. BUZZARD release

All those who deserve to be free.

Wanna know why I really could never be St. Patrick?

AIN'T no dispute about MILDEW TRAYz

Served with my LIFE on a MOLDED TABLE.

Historianz refute da' life of St. Patrick --

His captivity could possibly be a fable.

I could never be St. Patrick.

To me, he's just a

FOUR LEAF CLOVER wearin'

Cartoon LUCKY CHARM carryin'

HOLLYWOOD swearin'

Green LEPRECHAUN.

I can't even celebrate his holiday.

Everyday I'm made to wear BLUE.